


Violets in Bloom

by StoriesbyReese



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Howard, Bisexual Peggy, Bisexual Peggy Carter, Bisexuality, F/F, Family, Lesbian Angie, Pregnancy, Pregnant Peggy, Romance, Violets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 61,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesbyReese/pseuds/StoriesbyReese
Summary: The story of Peggy Carter and Angie Martinelli following S2 of Agent Carter.It begins when Peggy returns from L.A. with a new understanding of her feelings for her best friend and flatmate, but will she be able to act on this new understanding? Angie has always known how she feels, but she doesn't think Peggy feels the same.What will life have in store for them if and when they go get their act together?An exploration of what could have been for Peggy and Angie and their life together. This story follows the pair through their lives.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli
Comments: 173
Kudos: 197





	1. Prologue

** 2015 **

She sensed him come into the room and pause. She could feel his gaze on her, soft and warm. He is happy that he is not in this strange world alone, and yet sad because life went on without him, and he missed out on what could have been. It still very much felt like a dream to her, and laying there with her eyes closed, her breaths slow, perhaps, she thought, it was. Perhaps Nicholas Fury hadn’t come to her and told her that the Valkyrie had finally been found after seventy years, and perhaps he hadn’t told her that Steve Rogers was still, by some miracle, alive. But then Peggy Carter opens her doe brown eyes and sees him standing there, blonde hair, bright blue eyes, dopey shy smile on his ageless face, and she knows. It wasn’t a dream. Steve was alive and he’d come back. 

“You’re late again.” Peggy says as she tries to settle herself into a more dignified position in her hospital bed. It wasn’t easy. She’d slept on army cots more comfortable than this bloody thing. Plus she wasn’t as strong and nimble as she used to be. She was still stubborn as hell though, and she managed to get herself saturated better so that she could sit and talk to Steve with some dignity. 

Steve’s shy smile turns sheepish as he moves across her room to the window where a vase is kept for the fresh flowers he brings her every week. “Sorry about that, ran into a little trouble on that last op. Nat and I just got back this morning.” His smile shifted into an easy grin as he pulled a chocolate bar from his jacket pocket. “On the bright side I had to take a detour through London.”

“You wonderful man.” Peggy accepts her favorite chocolate with a slightly shaky hand. Among other betrayals, her aged body had decided that there should always be just the hint of a tremor in her hands. Hands that had once been so steady she could shoot a man in the head as he fled in a speeding car that drove away from her at considerable speed. 

“One of these days I’m going to get caught sneaking you in sweets, Peg.” Steve teases as he sits in the chair beside her bed. He’s smiling, amused, and she knows he would do damn near anything she asked of him, even if it did get him into trouble. 

“If the bloody ninnies in this damn place would indulge me once in a while I wouldn’t need contraband.” Peggy argues as she unwraps the chocolate and eats a single square with pure delight. Her dark eyes, the very color of the treat she’s eating, close and she hums with satisfied approval. Her smile is big and bright as she opens her eyes to find Steve shaking his head at her and laughing softly. At that moment he looks relaxed, and she’s glad for it. He’d seemed troubled his last few visits. She watches him watch her and he smiles, unable to help himself. She knows he takes comfort in the fact that despite having gotten old while he was away, she was still very much herself. Spunky, witty, quick with a quip and always willing to listen and talk when he needed her. He was struggling to find his place in this strange new world he’d awoken into and she was trying her best to help him navigate it. Peggy watches as his gaze once again drifts over the various photographs on her side table, and then over to the ones hanging on the wall across from her bed where she can see them easily. The photographs tell the story of her life, the life she led while he was frozen in the ice, and she can tell that he wants to ask, he just hasn’t found the courage to yet. But something must have changed, perhaps on this last mission with his new partner, Agent Romanoff, because Steve finally looks at her with bravery in his eyes. 

“You should be proud of yourself, Peg.” Steve says, his gaze resting on a black and white photograph of Peggy and her children, a son and a daughter.

Peggy smiles a warm and loving smile as she lets her own gaze fall upon the photos of herself and her children. “I have lived a life.” 

“Can I ask you a question Peg?” Steve asks bashfully, blushing a little at having the nerve to finally ask something that’s been on his mind. 

“Of course you can, darling.” Peggy replies as she turns her focus onto the man looking at her as if he’s worried his question might hurt or go too far. “You can ask me anything, Steve.” 

“It’s just that, well,” Steve reaches up and rubs the back of his neck. “Um, it doesn’t seem like your husband is in any of the pictures. I guess I just assumed he was the one taking them, but I don’t see any of him anywhere. I’m sorry if that’s too personal.”

“Don’t be, nothing to be sorry for.” Peggy replies with a smile, and then she teases. “Except maybe your lack of observational skills.” She nods towards the drawer of her side table. “Open that and take out the album. Maybe it’ll be more clear.” 

Steve looked confused. He pulled out the photo album and began carefully going through it’s pages, looking at each and every picture on display. She had shown him a few pictures not openly on display before, but not an album’s worth. Seventy years of Peggy’s life, unfolding in front of him. 

“There’s a reason you don’t see a husband in the pictures, Steve.” Peggy’s smile is turning into a smirk as she watches him carefully turn each page. “You just haven’t spotted it yet.” 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed the woman in the displayed pictures on Peggy’s wall. She was half a head shorter than Peggy, dark blonde hair, warm almost smoky blue eyes, an almost mischievous looking quirk to her smile. He just hadn’t thought much of her presence, a friend like Howard or Dum Dum, but looking at the more candid pictures he could see there was more to this woman and her place in Peggy’s life. 

Whether it was his own naivety or the pedestal he had her on, Steve just wasn’t making the connection. Peggy took pity on him and smiled. “Her name is Angela Lusia Agatha Martinelli, and sod the bloody legality of it, she’s my wife.” 

Steve’s head snapped up, his sparkling blue eyes wide. “Your… Your wife?” 

Peggy hums an affirming sound as she nods. “I’m queer, dear. My grandchildren tell me the proper term is bisexual.” She really shouldn’t find Steve's imitation of a suffocating fish amusing, but she did. She’d spent most of her life under the oppressive thumb of homophobia, and she was long past done with it. “The important part of this new bit of information, Steve, is that I loved and was loved deeply. And if you’d like, I would very much like to tell you about my darling Angie.” 

It took a moment, it was a lot for Steve to process, but in the end he smiled and nodded. “I’d like that, Peg.” 

Everything about Peggy lit up at the chance to talk about her love for and life with Angie. “Well, we met in 1946. I’d just moved my whole life to New York to continue the work you and I started during the war, and one evening I dashed into an automat moments before a rather nasty thunderstorm hit. Angie was the waitress who took my order. I was struck by her the moment she walked up to the table, and smitten as soon as she made a comment about liking my accent and called me English for the first time.” 

Over his next few visits Peggy told Steve about how she would go to the L&L every day after meeting Angie, whether it be for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, it all depended on which shift Angie was working. She told him about Angie trying to get her to move into the same boarding house as her, and the struggle of ignoring Angie’s pouty puppy dog eyes. She told him about nights spent talking over schnapps and pie, and afternoon walks in the park, and about her crippling fears of being the cause of Angie getting hurt or worse. Peggy beams with pride as she tells Steve about the performance Angie puts on for the SSR agents sent to arrest her, and then has to talk Steve out of being angry at men long since dead. 

“Before I asked her to share Howard’s flat with me I told her everything.” Peggy tells Steve as she toys with the wrapper of another smudged in chocolate bar. “I needed her to be aware of the risks I came with. She took it remarkably well. We got to spend several wonderful weeks settling into the new place before I was sent to help with a case in L.A.” She smiles fondly at the memories as they come. “Everything changed after that, between Angie and I, when I returned, that’s when it all became something more than friendship.” 

“What changed your mind about letting her in?” Steve asks with a warm smile. 

Peggy grins. “Would you believe it all started with a dream?”


	2. Chapter 2

** 1947/48 **

It’s dark and she doesn’t know where she is. She’s disorgianated, turning slowly where she stands, squirting into the darkness. Peggy Carter’s heart races as she tries to control her breathing, short, measured, quiet breaths. Then she hears a sound, a snap followed by a soft crackling hiss, and suddenly the darkness is pierced by an eerie green glow. Turning slowly, Peggy braces herself for what she will find, but when she sees the source of the light it only confuses her more. It’s a neon green sign that reads L&L Automat. Peggy blinks, her confusion growing by leaps and bounds. She’d been in the desert, had just witnessed Edwin Jarvis shoot Whitney Frost point blank, Jason Wilkes was alive in a crater caused by a zero matter explosion, and there were gangsters. There was a sharp blow to the back of her head, the butt of a rifle perhaps? That sharp pain was the last thing Peggy remembers before finding herself here, in front of the L&L with sweethearts passing her by as she crosses the street towards the revolving doors, a couple of sailors smile and tip their caps at her as she cuts in front of them in her haste to get inside. 

There’s a tune playing on the radio that she doesn’t recognize as she makes her way towards the counter hoping to find a familiar face, and perhaps an explanation as to what the bloody hell was going on! “Excuse me?” When the waitress at the counter turns it's just the face Peggy had been hoping to see, one that simonatially brings her comfort and pain. She misses her. “Angie!” 

“Hiya English!” Angie says cheerfully. “What’it’ll be today?” 

She was in the desert with Jarvis, Jason, Frost and gangsters. How was she here with Angie in the L&L? Something wasn’t right, but God she missed Angie. She smiles. “Angie, what are you doing here?” 

“Bustin’ my hump workin’ a double.” Angie laughs and wipes down the counter in front of Peggy before tossing the dish towel over her shoulder. “What about you, English? Shouldn’t you be workin’ on whatever top secret stuff you get up to at the,” She air quotes, “phone company?” 

When Peggy asked Angie to move into Howard’s penthouse she gave her that explanation she said she would give her after Angie had helped her off the ledge, literally. She had wanted Angie to understand what would come with not only living together, but just being friends. It had been a tremendous weight off Peggy’s shoulders, and while the possibilities of Angie getting hurt still terrified her, she also found comfort and stability in having someone she trusted to confide in. 

“I was,” Peggy replies, confusion once again muddling up her thoughts. “I mean I am, I’m in the desert, I was, working in the desert?” 

“Of course, you want dessert.” Angie smiles a big knowing smile. “You have it bad for pie, English, we got key lime today, you’ll love it.” 

“No, Angie,” Peggy shakes her head which feels like it’s full of warm cotton balls. “That’s not what I said.” 

Suddenly Angie’s expression changed, her smile which seemed just a little too big, a little too fake, fades and her high pitched voice, which was too cheerful even for Angie, lowered to a more serious octave. She leaned forward across the counter, her gaze locking onto Peggy’s. “Then what do you want, Peggy?” 

Peggy blinks. The way Angie is looking at her, the tone of her voice, it’s making Peggy uncomfortable. She shakes her head and admits. “I… I don’t know what I want.” 

Before Angie can responde a voice to Peggy’s left says, “What about…” Peggy turns to find Jason lowering a menu. “Me?” 

“You.” She somehow manages to keep it from sounding like a hiss. For a moment Peggy had thought she’d felt a spark between herself and the brilliant scientist. He was handsome, charming in an endearing way, intelligent, and they shared an understanding of what it meant to be considered inferior by the dominant power. Then for whatever reason, one he surely thought was a noble one, he turned on her. Whether it was in fear or desperation he’d aligned himself with the enemy, and against her. 

Jason stands and holds out his hand. The music no longer seems as if it’s coming from the radio but from all around them. Peggy takes his offered hand and allows him to pull her closer, allows him to put his arm around her waist, and follows his lead as they begin to dance. The banter between them came easily just as it always did, but dancing with Jason felt strange. It was lovely, really, and she’d enjoyed the dance they’d had that night in the club, but dancing with him now felt like trying to fit into an ill fitted dress or a pair of heels several sizes too small. 

The order bell rings and Angie’s voice calls out that an order is ready. Peggy feels a pull deep in her chest, one that makes her pull out of Jason’s arms to look for Angie. She turns towards the direction she’d heard Angie’s voice and calls out, “Angie?” But instead of seeing the spunky waitress from Brookylyn with big dreams of being on Broadway, Peggy finds herself face to face with, “Daniel?” He’s standing there, smiling at her sans crutch. “What the blood blue blazes is going on here?” 

Daniel takes two steps towards her and starts singing. Bloody singing! Like they’re in one of Angie’s damn Broadway shows! Even as she fell into a perfectly choreographed step alongside Daniel, Peggy didn’t realize she was dreaming. Peggy Carter didn’t dream of brightly colored musical numbers, she dreamed of war, of fighting, of loss. This, this seemed like something Angie would dream up. 

Dancing in Daniel’s arms felt safe, it still didn’t feel quite right, but it was safe, known, predictable, expected. Daniel was kind, steady, and hard working. Again, he and Peggy could commiserate about being underestimated and mollycoddled by their peers. She could learn to be happy with Daniel. Though she would have to stop holding that small grudge towards him and his willingness to believe the worst of her. She’d never admitted it to him, or to anyone really, but having Daniel believe her a traitor had hurt her deeply. 

What was he bloody singing about? What she was going to do, was up to her? Damn sodding right it was up to her! Daniel. Jason. They were both decent, good, men. They would each come with their own challenges, but Peggy could handle it. Daniel was the safer option of the two, and as he leans in to kiss her, Peggy draws back, her eyes wide. Then she feels a hand grab hold of hers and she’s pulled out of Daniel’s arms. She’s twirled around, and finds herself face to face with Angie. She breathes a sigh of relief, and relaxes as her best friend smiles at her. “Oh Angie, thank heavens. I quite think I’ve lost my damn mind.” 

“That’s your problem, Peg.” Angie tells her as she pulls Peggy close and they start to dance. “You ain’t listenin’ to your heart. You’re doing all your debating in your head.” She twirls Peggy away from her, and then pulls her back in, only this time Peggy’s back is flush up against Angie’s front. It’s a little awkward given the height difference, Peggy being taller, and yet it feels perfect. Angie’s hand is on her stomach, warm, welcome. Her lips brush against Peggy’s ear as she speaks, a smile on her lips, “You think too much, English.” 

They dance that way for a moment longer, then Angie’s hand is sliding to Peggy’s hip, and she’s gently pushing Peggy away again, only to draw her close once more, this time they’re face to face again. Peggy giggles, which she blames on the slight headrush of being cast about like a child’s yo-yo, and not the feeling dancing with Angie evokes in her. Dancing with Angie is different. Angie isn’t leading, forcing her to follow, like Daniel or Jason had. They move together, equally directing their movement and direction. Peggy isn’t stiff, mindful of keeping distance between their bodies. She’s relaxed, and they’re pressed up against each other so closely old Mrs. Evans wouldn’t be able to press a sheet of paper between them, let alone a ruler. Dancing with Angie felt natural, perfect even, like Angie was meant to dance with her. Like maybe Angie was the right partner for her. 

As soon as Peggy had the thought she let go of Angie and stumbled backwards, her eyes wide, her heart racing. She would have fallen but was caught and steadied. When she turned to see who’d caught her Peggy was startled to find Dottie smiling back at her. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

Dottie smiled sweetly. “Oh Peggy, I’ll always be in your head.” 

Peggy began backing away from the tall Russian assassin until she crashed into someone, causing him to make a soft oof sound. Spinning on her heel Peggy’s breath rushed from her lungs as her eyes widened. Now she knew she was dreaming. “Steve.”

Steve Rogers, all one hundred pounds of him, stood there smiling at her in his army issued tan shirt, and tie. “Askin’ a pretty dame to dance is still pretty terrifying.” He held out his hand to her. “Even when you know she’ll say yes, maybe because you know she’ll say yes.” 

Pre-serum Steve, her Steve, held out his hand to her and Peggy took it gladly. “Oh Steve.” 

“It’s ok, ya know.” Steve tells her as the music slows and the room fades away around them. “For you to be happy, for you to find love, so what are you waitin’ on, Peggy?” 

“I suppose I’m still holding out for the right partner.” She answers as she looks into his eyes. 

“Holding out or hiding from?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin as if he knows something she doesn’t. “Never known you to be a coward, Peggy.” 

She gasps, insulted and a bit ashamed. “I’m not!” 

“Then what’s it gonna be, Peggy?” Steve asks her as he spins her out of his arms and into the middle of a stage. 

Peggy stands alone, her heart racing, as the stage floods with dancers who repeatedly sing the line, “What’s it going to be?” Daniel slides in on her left, taking her hand and gently pulling. Jason appears on her right, taking her hand and gently pulling. She tugs in towards herself to free her hands, but they hold on and come closer. She looks both of them in the eye, and then shoves them both away, casting them from the stage. She turns around, finds Angie singing and dancing with the chorus, she walks up to her, sighs and reaches out for her. Angie smiles as she sings, a beautiful smile that floods Peggy with warmth and thoughts of home, and dancing together for years and years to come. 

“Oh dear.” Peggy sighs as she looks into Angie’s eyes, her hand still outstretched towards the other woman. 

“What’s the matter, English?” Angie replied, staring back, breathless and smiling. 

“I do believe I’m rather in love with you, darling.” Peggy admits. Angie suddenly stops, everything around them comes to a halt. Peggy holds her breath, and just as Angie is about to reach up and take her hand.

“Miss. Carter!” Edwin Jarvis’ voice cuts through the music and Peggy’s thundering heart.   
“I do hate to interrupt.” 

She turns towards the sound of his voice ready to snap at him but stopped when she finds him surrounded by dancing girls with feather fans. She blinks, tilts her head and replies. “Yes Mr. Jarvis?” 

“You’re queer, dear.” Jarvis tells hers as dancing girls wave large feather fans around him, framing him in black and white to match his top hat and tails. 

Peggy blinks and turns to look at grinning Angie before looking back at Jarvis. She shrugs at him and nods. “Yes, I suppose indeed I am.”

“Now that you know what you want.” Jarvis tells her. “It’s time to wake up.” 

Peggy comes to in the back of a box truck that’s rumbling down the road. Her head is pounding, and her thoughts are scattered as she regains consciousness. She moans softly as she pushes her body up until she’s on her hands and knees, and then moans again as she gets herself upright. Seeing Jarvis laying on the floor helped to clear Peggy’s mind. She needed to get them out of this gangster driven box truck. She rouses him fairly easily, and with the handy little hot wire in her belt, she frees them from the confines of the truck. She may or may not have thrown him out of the truck a little roughly, but honestly they wouldn’t be in this mess if he’d kept a level head. Peggy could understand his fear and guilt over Ana, she shared it in fact, but now was not the time to lose their heads and allow their hearts to take charge. 

“You’ve really proven your worth to God, King, and Country this time Agent Carter!” Jarvis yells as he rants in a very un-British like way. 

She rolls her dark eyes and continues to walk. His anger over the situation, the guilt he feels for drawing danger into Ana’s orbit, his fear over whether or not his wife will live or die, are shining examples of why she can’t have what she wants. She is willing to acknowledge the uncovered truth in her strange dream. She has feelings, feelings she should not be having, for her best friend. This wasn’t just a deviant dalliance with a schoolmate or a war time need for companionship and comfort. Peggy was in love with Angie. 

Michael hadn’t been wrong all those years ago at her engagement party when he’d said she’d let her dreams be drummed out of her, only it hadn’t just been her dreams of adventure, but her desires towards other women as well. Fred had not only been the safe choice, but the normal one. She had given in to her desires a few times during the war after she’d joined the S.O.E. and S.S.R, and before she’d met Steve. And while there may have certainly been attraction and even affection, there was never anything like what she felt now for Angie. Feelings that Peggy could never admit to, to anyone. If her enemies ever found out about Angie, she could very well end up just like Ana Jarvis, or worse, like Colleen. Peggy had taken a big enough risk moving into the Griffith and then into Howard’s penthouse with Angie. Having feelings for Angie would only make the danger to Angie worse. 

Peggy could no longer ignore the fact that she did in fact have romantic feelings for Angie. Feelings that Peggy could never admit to, to anyone other than herself. Angie was a good Catholic girl, with normal dreams and desires. Admitting she had these kinds of feelings would drive Angie out of her life, it would change the way Angie saw her, and Peggy, who could bear a hell of a lot, could not bear that. 

She was so lost in her thoughts, and the painful ache in her chest caused by realizing she once again felt love, but could do nothing with that love but harbour it secretly, that Peggy had forgotten about Jarvis as he trailed behind her. She’d nearly bloody jumped out of her skin when he spoke up, talking of rest and complaining of being out in the heat and desolation. She scolds him like he’s a spoiled child whinging at his mother’s skirt, and then attempts to walk away from him, but Jarvis won’t let it drop. He picks a fight with her and before Peggy can stop herself she’s saying things that perhaps should not be said. 

“Yes, Mister Jarvis, there is a cost.” She tells him, her voice soft, emotional, sad and full of regret. “One I have paid for a hundred times over, and continue to pay for with each breath I take, each beat of my heart. Your wife will survive, you can go on with your life knowing nothing of loss, knowing nothing of longing, and loneliness. Ana will be fine, Mr. Jarvis, and you will get to spend the rest of your life with her, with the woman you love. Lucky you.” 

He tells her about Ana and the complications and together under the desert sun they mourn together, Jarvis for the future he and Ana had once dreamed of but can no longer have, and Peggy for a life she can never have with the one she loves. They embrace, giving one another comfort and support, and then just as they had once been told, they calm themselves and they carry on. 

They return to the city and Peggy sends Jarvis back to the hospital to be with Ana, only to have Ana send him back to her. When Jarvis returns he has Howard with him, and after that everything gets a bit crazy. In the end Frost is defeated, zero matter is destroyed, and they’ve handicapped a powerful cabal, but Peggy knows she’s poked a hornet’s nest this time. Standing outside of Ana Jarvis’ hospital room a war brews inside her. A part of her wants to push people away to keep them safe, but a larger part of her would not stop thinking about something Jarvis had said to her when he’d first come into her life. He’d told her that she needed people in her life, people to support her, care about her, even love her, because what good was saving the world if she weren’t saving it for the people she cared about. A spiteful part of her wondered why bother to save a world who thought her abnormal, a world where she could never be with the people she loved because fate had taken them from her or made them taboo for her to love. 

“Miss. Carter.” Jarvis says gently as he approaches her. 

Peggy jumped a bit, so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed him leave Ana’s room. “Yes, Mr. Jarvis? How is Ana doning?”

“As well as can be expected.” Jarvis replies. “We have a bit of a long road ahead of us.” 

“Yes, well, it’ll be difficult, but you’ll do it together.” Peggy smiled warmly at him while reaching for his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. 

Jarvis returns the smile, “What shall you do now?” 

“I’m not sure.” Peggy admits. What she wants to do, is go home, but she isn’t sure that’s the best course of action. Putting aside the fact that danger seems to follow her like ducklings follow their mother, given her feelings for a certain fledgling actress, perhaps it would be best for them both if Peggy stayed here.

Jarvis hesitates for merely a moment before saying, “I think, and pardon me if I am at all out of line here Miss. Carter, but, I think that after once again saving the world, you should go home to the person you saved it for.” 

Peggy’s eyes went wide as she stared up at him unsure whether she had taken his meaning correctly. Surely he wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying, she was merely hearing what she wanted. Despite how close they were, there was no way Edwin Jarvis knew of her most secret and unnatural inner thoughts and feelings. “Mr. Jarvis, I…” She pauses and takes in the way he’s looking at her, the warmth and affection in his eyes, and she sighs softly. Peggy smiles. “Yes, Mr. Jarvis, I do believe you are quite right. I do rather miss New York.”


	3. Chapter 3

It had been another long day in a string of long days that had turned into a couple of really long months. Angie Martinelli hadn’t really been able to put her finger on why she’d been feeling so blase lately, she really didn’t have a reason to feel so melancholy. She was living in a penthouse apartment that overlooked Central freakin Park. She’d gotten a call back for a play, sure it was so far off Broadway it was damn near in Jersey, but it was still an acting part in an actual play! She’d gotten a much better waitressing job in a little cafe that she liked a lot. Since she’d lost her job at the L&L because of that little scuffle Peggy and Jarvis had with those g-men, Howard had offered to pay her way so she could focus on getting her acting career off the ground, but Angie was much to proud for that, she wasn’t about to live off the dimes and nickels of Peggy’s pal. The only reason she was still in the penthouse is because she’d promised Peggy she’d stay no matter how long she was away on business. Business that had kept Peggy in Los Angeles for the past couple of months, the same number of weeks as Angie’s bout of pensiveness. 

She wasn’t stupid, Angie knew her mood was because of Peggy, she was just choosening to ignore that fact. So after a long day that had consisted of a breakfast shift at the cafe, and her call back audition, Angie had come home and slipped into the massive tub in the bathroom attached to her bedroom. Then she put on her least faded dress, the warm yellow one with the white polka dots, her best pair of nylons, and heels she may have borrowed from Peggy’s closet. She did her make-up and pinned up her hair in close waves, dabbed on a bit of perfume, and then headed out for the evening. 

The building she arrived at in the Village wasn’t much of anything really. During the day it was a perfectly harmless bookstore, with a couple of offices and a studio on the upper floors, but in the evening when the cellar was opened, it was a place for like minded people to gather safely for a drink or a dance. Angie wasn’t much in the mood these days to dance, but she’d have that drink and avoid the loneliness of her way to big for just her apartment. Sliding onto a stool Angie waited on the woman who owned and ran the place to make her way over to her, and when she did she smiled brightly. 

“Well, back again sourpuss?” The older woman teases as she appears in front of Angie. 

Angie pouts. “Don’t be mean, Bea.” 

Bea was in her sixties, six feet tall at minimum, with silver hair she wore in tight curls. Her eyes were a steely blue that the younger girls would swear could see straight into their souls. She had a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue at times. Her husband owned the building, left to him by her father in his will, but the bookstore and the bar were hers to do with as she pleased. Her lover, a sassy woman from Georgia, had a photography studio on the second floor above the bookstore. “Hey, I’m just trying to figure out if I’m going to be spending all night watching you pout into your drink, or if I might get to see your cute little ass having a little fun, kitten.” 

“One of these days Rue’s going to catch you watching us, Bea.” Angie teases the older woman. 

Bea barks out a laugh. “Like she isn’t over in the corner flirting with a girl from Memphis right now.” Bea flashes Angie a smile and then asks, “What will it be tonight, kitten?” 

“Got anything back there that’s english?” Angie asks. 

“Got gin.” Bea replies. 

Angie nods. “Something with gin then.” 

“One Gin Rickey for the sad kitten.” Bea teases as she gets to work on Angie’s drink. 

Angie pouts more. “Quit callin’ me sad, I ain’t sad.” 

Bea barks out another laugh. “How about pining? That a better word?” 

“Pining? I ain’t pining for nobody!” Angie argues as she accepts her drink. 

“Oh please kitten,” Bea snorts. “Do you think you’re the first weepin’ violet to sit at my bar and sigh into her drink over some dame they can’t have? And do you know how many of them could probably have the dame if they weren’t so damn dense?” 

“I ain’t dense.” Angie narrowed her eyes at the older woman and huffed. 

“You ain’t a lot of things tonight, kitten.” Bea tells the girl. “And happy’s one of ‘em. I miss your pretty smile and bright eyes, kitten.” 

Angie sighs softly. She missed Peggy, she missed her best friend’s laugh, and her smile, and the faint lingering smell of her perfume in the apartment. She missed the sound of Peggy’s voice, the warmth in Peggy’s big brown eyes, and the little noises she made in the mornings as she read the paper. She missed looking away from a script to see Peggy curled up in the chair she’d claimed as her own, reading a book, her toes curling and uncurling as she read the exciting bits, her fingers toying with her necklace at what Angie assumed to be the racey bits because Peggy’s cheeks were tinted with just a hint of pink. And just because she notices things like the way Peggy runs the tip of her index finger around the rim of her tea cup when she’s thinking about a clue in her crossword puzzle, doesn’t mean she’s in love with Peggy Carter, damnit!. 

Who is she kidding? She’s been drawn to Peggy Carter since the woman first slipped into her station and ordered coffee and pie. She’d felt the heat of attraction when Peggy had given her the brush off and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap her, kiss her, or both. And Angie was pretty damn sure she’d have offered the English woman her heart on a plate the night she came into the automat with those big doe eyes full of unshed tears after the fella at her job died. Just remembering the way Peggy’s voice had cracked when she’d asked if Angie wanted to hear about her day made Angie want to find her and wrap her up in her arms and keep her safe. Getting Peggy to smile in that moment, it had made Angie feel things, things she shouldn’t be feeling for her best friend. Aw hell, Angie was in love with Peggy and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. 

“Give me another one Bea.” Angie called out after downing her drink. “A little more gin and less Rickey this time.” 

After her third Gin Rickey Angie starts muttering in Italian as she watches the other girls dancing with one another, comparing them to Peggy. Peggy’s hair is the color of perfectly roasted chestnuts and smells of sage and lavender. Most of the time Peggy’s eyes are the color of expensive chocolate, like pools of the cioccolata calda her Nonna makes for her. But sometimes, when the sun hits her face just right, Peggy’s eyes can look like warm dark honey. Peggy’s smile, that rare full smile that Angie likes to think only she’s seen more than once, could light up the whole damn island, and it causes the cutest dimples to form in her cheeks. Peggy’s bosom, dear sweet blessed virgin, Peggy’s bosom, honeydews for sure, and Angie imagined they tasted just as sweet and would feel just as full and heavy in her hands. 

Bea waited until Angie had finished commenting on this Peggy woman’s hips and delightful sounding derriere before chuckling and saying, “Sounds like a really gorgeous doll you’ve got yourself hung up on, kitten.” 

Angie damn near jumps off her stool, and then moans softly at the smirk on the older woman’s lips. “You have no idea, Bea.” And then she squeaks, wide eyed and flushing with embarrassment over being caught talking about Peggy that way. In her soused state she’d forgotten that Bea’s family had been among the first waves of immigrants from Italy back around 1910s, and that Bea spoke Italian just as fluently as she did. “Oh gosh, I shouldn’t have, Peg’s a lady, I shouldn’t have…” 

“God you have it bad.” Bea laughed, and when Angie dropped her head to the bar she patted the girl’s caramel colored curls. 

Bea and Rue never let the single girls go home on their own. Both of Bea’s sons were taxi drivers and on Friday and Saturday nights would take the single girls back to their homes, Bea footing the bill to keep the girls safe. Not having a ten o’clock curfew was nice, but old habits die hard and Angie still did her best to sneak into the penthouse as quietly as possible. While she wasn’t pass out drunk, Angie did sway on her feet as she made her way to the stairs in her stocking feet, Peggy’s heels dangling from her fingers as she tackled making her way up to the bedrooms. There were six for them to choose from, and Angie had let Peggy pick first, and then she had taken the one right next to Peggy’s.

Since she had to pass Peggy’s room on the way to her own, Angie decided to put Peggy’s heels back in her closet. Angie was so focused on being sneaky in her intoxicated state that she didn’t give much thought to the fact that Peggy’s bedroom door had been open, nor did she pay much attention to the soft warm glow of the table lamp that was on next to Peggy’s bed. Angie tiptoed towards Peggy’s closet and was just about to reach for the knob to put the heels back in their place among Peggy’s other nice shoes when a throat cleared behind her. 

“Angie?” Peggy was sitting on her bed, the book she’d been reading now open on her lap, her eyebrow raised curiously. She’d gotten home a couple hours ago and had been overwhelmingly disappointed to find Angie wasn’t. Given the late hour Peggy’s first reaction had been to panic, to think something had happened to Angie, that she’d been taken or worse. Then she managed to take a deep breath and think rationally. After a quick poke around in Angie’s room, she noticed that Angie’s yellow dress was missing, and her best pocketbook, which meant she’d gone out for the evening. So Peggy had taken a long bath, made herself a cup of tea, and settled on her bed to read until her friend came home, which is why she’d left her door open. 

The sudden sound of someone saying her name caused Angie to scream, jump, and throw Peggy’s heels up all at the same time. Something in her brain must have registered that she’d thrown the shoes in the air, because Angie covered her head until she heard them hit the floor, and then flinched with a little yelp at the sound they made. Then she turned towards the bed way too fast because she swayed on her feet as her eyes focused on the figure sitting there. 

Peggy tried very hard not to laugh at the utterly adorable look on Angie’s face. She was fairly certain the other woman was trying to glare, but it just came across as being caught sneaking around, something keen to a cute animal caught in a spot light. “Angie, darling, it’s just me.” 

“English?” Angie squinted, her hand going to her chest as if she were trying to keep her pounding heart in her body. “Sweet mother of mercy, Peg! You tryin’ to scare a gal to death?” 

“I’m sorry darling.” Peggy chuckles as she gets up from her bed and walks over to Angie. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” 

It wasn’t until Peggy was standing in front of her and Angie could feel her warmth and smell the fresh sage and lavender that her blue eyes went wide and realization hit her. “Peggy! You’re home! I missed you!” 

She barely has time to brace herself before Angie is throwing her arms around her in an excited hug. Peggy chuckles softly, happily returning her friend’s hug. “I missed you too, Angie.” 

They clung to each other a little longer than was necessary and then they both seemed to realize it at the same time and pulled out of the embrace rather quickly, each of them blushing slightly. Angie was the first to speak up, “Why didn’t you tell me you were comin’ home, English? I’d have been here when you got in! Mr. Money Bags skimp out on the long distance?” 

“No, actually he flew me back himself.” Peggy explains as she smiles almost shyly at the other woman. “I just wish he’d gotten me here sooner so I could have gone out to celebrate with you.” 

For a moment Angie’s brain sorted out at the thought of taking Peggy, proper and prim, english and straight, Peggy, to Bea’s. Then she blinked and said, “Celebrate?” 

“Your best yellow dress.” Peggy pointed out, her gaze doing a quick up and down of said garment. “And you’re just a bit drunk.” 

“Oh!” Angie blushed deeply. She wasn’t celebrating, not really, she was just avoiding being home alone missing the very woman now standing in front of her. But Angie wasn’t going to admit to that so she said, “I got a call back!” 

“Angie, that’s wonderful!” Peggy replied excitedly for her friend, and easily embraced her again. When she let Angie go, Peggy took hold of her hand and led her over to the bed where they sat crossed legged, facing one another, knees almost touching. “Tell me all about this show you’re going to be in.”

“I ain’t in it yet, Peg.” Angie replies once she clears her head from the warm fuzzy feeling she was sure came from having Peggy’s hand in hers, and not the Gin Rickeys. “I just got a call back, they’re still thinkin’ it over.” 

Peggy smiled, warm and proud. “They wouldn’t have called you back in if you didn’t have a solid chance, Angie.”

Angie waved it off and then smiled a wide smile of her own. “I’d rather hear about your adventure in the city of angels. You’re home, so you clearly showed those fatheads how it’s done, and solved the case.” 

The pride she saw in Angie’s eyes was a little surprising but flooded Peggy with warmth. She smiled. “I can’t tell you everything, Angie, but yes I did close the case.” 

Peggy had only been gone a couple of months, seven or eight weeks tops, but the pair played catch up like they’d been separated for years. Peggy told Angie all about Ana Jarvis, how lovely she was and how she couldn’t wait for the two to meet. When Peggy told her about Ana getting hurt, she reinforced why it had been important to her that Angie understand what being around her could mean for Angie’s safety. Angie swore once again she could handle it, that it would be fine, she would be fine. Angie tried to lighten the mood with the latest rumors from the Griffith, apparently Miriam had a suitor. When Angie said that maybe the old hen would loosen up a little now that she had a fella to pull the stick out of her, Peggy blushed, laughed and shoved playfully at the other woman with a scandalized, “Angela, really!” 

The first hints of dawn were just making themselves known outside of Peggy’s window when the two women decided they should probably get some sleep. Before leaving Peggy’s room for her own Angie stopped in the doorway and asked, “Hey English, you gotta work today?” 

“No, thankfully.” Peggy replies. “I still have a few days on the vacation time I took. Why?” 

“I’d love to take ya to the cafe, show you the place, introduce you to the girls.” Angie smiled softly. “Wanna have brunch? Cause I work in a place that does brunch now.” 

Peggy couldn’t help but return the other woman’s smile as she nodded. “I’d love too, Angie.” 

“Great!” Angie beamed and then softened. “I really did miss ya, Peggy.” 

“I miss you too, Angie.” Peggy replied earnestly.

“Goodnight English.” Angie says before finally leaving the room. 

Peggy bites her lip, her head and heart once again at war. Her life while in L.A. had been a whirlwind, one she couldn’t seem to pull herself out of long enough to feel grounded and centered. Really, it’s no wonder she managed to impale herself. But after two months of feeling off balance and out of place, a few short hours in Angie’s presence had her feeling rooted and secure again. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, managing her feelings for the other woman, but as she settled into her own bed for the first time in months, she was beginning to wonder if she had finally found something stronger than her stubborn reserve, her desire to be around Angie in any way she could be. 

The cafe Angie worked at now was lovely, and in a much better part of town close to their apartment. It was owned by a man named Simon and his wife Gail, who were both very kind, huge improvements over the oaf who owned the automat. It was a warm, cosy place, with seating outside for sipping coffee and having your sandwich on warm summer days. The food was actually quite wonderful, and the baked goods were to die for. Peggy approved immensely. 

“isn’t it swell, Peg?” Angie asked as the pair walked through the park after brunch. “You won’t even have to bring your own tea bags anymore. Si, has actual real tea brought in.

“It’s absolutely grand, Angie.” Peggy replies with a warm smile. “It’s been ages since I’ve had such a lovely tea.”

As they walked, arms linked, they soaked in the sun while it lasted, the park, and the company. They both felt almost giddy as they strolled. They both had things they wished they could say, but both were too afraid to do so. So instead of bringing up taboo feelings that could ruin everything, they simply enjoy being together again after months apart. Two women, who mean the world to one another, but who are too afraid to express just how much.


	4. Chapter 4

The bell over the door chimed lightly as Peggy walked into the little book shop she’d discovered when she’d first moved to New York and had been exploring her new home a bit. She hadn’t been sure why she’d been drawn to this particular book shop until she discovered it was owned by a woman, and catered to women. Once Peggy learned of the reputation of the West Village, she realized that the shop might cater to a particular kind of woman. Given the need to keep almost all aspects of her life a secret, Peggy probably should have stopped shopping at the store, but she simply couldn’t bring herself to stop dropping in to pick up whatever new novel she was looking for. She simply liked the atmosphere of the shop, and the women who worked there. 

The woman minding the shop today was in her sixties with faded red hair she wore up in a ring of curls around her head. She was of average height and starting to plump with age. She always had a warm smile, and when she spoke it was with a drawl that told Peggy she was originally from the American south. Peggy spotted the woman near a rack of magazines and was about to call out to her when she felt something brush against her legs. When she looked down she found a pretty sand colored cat with caramel colored ears, paws, and tail tip. Crouching down Peggy smiled as she gave the cat a pet. “Hello Betty, it’s nice to see you again too.” 

“Well,” Drawled a voice that made Peggy look up and smile. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Haven’t seen you in ages, child. Where have you been? I was starting to think you’d up and gone back home to England.” 

Peggy gave the cat one last little scratch behind its ears and then stood up to embrace the woman who’d greeted her. “Hello Rue.” When they parted she gave a little shake of her head in response to what the other woman had said about England. “No, I haven’t given up on making my home here. I was out west for work these last few months.”

“Out west huh?” Rue replied, a warm smile on her aged face. “How far out west? Spent some time out that way myself back when I was young like you.”

“Los Angeles.” Peggy answers easily. 

Rue chuckled. “And you came back here? Just in time for the nasty cold weather?” 

Peggy smiled and gave the older woman a little shrug. “Too much sun for my tastes.”

Rue laughs harder, “You and that delicate english skin of yours, I’m surprised you’re not as red as my hair used to be.” 

The two catch up a bit more and then Peggy is left alone to peruse the shelves and tables to her heart’s content. She isn’t really looking for anything in particular, she simply had the extra day off, and Angie was working the lunch shift at the cafe, so Peggy thought she’d drop in and see what she could find. She didn’t feel quite comfortable reading the more expensive first editions in Howard’s library, and the handful of times she looked for something else she’d come across a few items that would probably get them all arrested under the obscenity laws. Those items had been tossed into the fireplace before anyone else, namely Angie, could find them. Peggy then had Jarvis come over and do another thorough sweep of the house for any more of Howard’s lude things.

After picking up the newest Agatha Christie and Georgette Heyer novels, Peggy found herself flicking through a magazine after making sure no one else was around. It was still pretty early in the day, the shop hadn’t even been open a full hour yet, so it was empty other than herself, Rue, and Betty the cat. So she wasn’t too worried as she began reading one of the articles in the self produced periodical, amazed to have come across it out in the open. 

“Last issue of that one I’m afraid.” Rue says as she walks up to Peggy after watching her for a few moments. She’d had a feeling about the girl, and it looked like she’d been right. “Only lasted a year, but given what it’s about, that’s a hell of an accomplishment.” 

Peggy managed not to jump but just barely. She did not however manage to conceal her blush at having been caught reading Vice Versa, a periodical themed towards queer women, written and self published by queer women. The magazine's very existence put a lot of people in danger, from the women involved, to the women who dared have it in their position, but it seemed to be a risk these women were willing to take. Brave of them, Peggy thought, though what she said was, “Rue, if the wrong sort of people were to discover this here, it could cause you, Beatrice, and the shop a lot of trouble.” 

Rue accepts the magazine when Peggy hands it to her and she smiles. “Bea and I are willing to take the risk, if it means the right sort of people see it.” The younger woman isn’t sure how to respond to that, and it makes Rue smile. “You know Peggy, Bea has these little get togethers on Friday and Saturday nights. She’s got a bit of a rumpus room down in the cellar, likes to talk about all manner of things, like gardening for example. You should stop by, sugar.”

Peggy picks up on what Rue is implying and she’s a bit caught off guard by it. She blushes a bit more as she mumbled out, “I’m not much for gardening, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh that’s all right, sugar.” Rue smiles a warm and reassuring smile. “The only flowers any of us care about are violets anyway.” 

About twenty years ago a play on Broadway was shut down for being obscene because it portrayed a romantic relationship between two women. One of the women would often send violets to the younger woman as a token of her affections. It had quickly become a type of code over the years, a way of safely letting someone know of certain taboo proclivities. Proclivities Peggy has given into before, because she had come to understand early on that she simply wasn’t like normal girls, but not since the war. “Rue, I…” 

Rue smiles and puts her hand on Peggy’s arm. “Things get started around eight, Bea’s normally behind the bar, and if you pop in, sugar, save ol’ Rue a dance, hmm? Now, find everything or did you want to look around a bit more? I think Bea managed to get her hands on some British mags if you’re feelin’ a bit homesick.” 

For a moment as Peggy walks to the subway platform to catch the train home, she wonders if maybe she should stop in on one of Bea and Rue’s little gatherings. Maybe if she scratched that particular itch she’d stop dreaming about Angie in that way. She was rather terrified that Angie might notice an inappropriate look or realize that sometimes Peggy’s touches lasted a little too long to merely be friendly. 

Since they no longer had communal meals to depend on Peggy and Angie had started spilling household responsibilities such as making dinner. Since Angie had to work, Peggy decided it was her turn and was able to get lost in the surprisingly calming motions of preparing their evening meal. When Angie got home she was tired and greatful, and the two were able to simply enjoy a quiet evening together. It would be the last peaceful evening Peggy would get for a while. 

There’s something clawing at the air as Peggy walks into work the next morning. The bullpen is buzzing, but it’s in a strange angry way that Peggy hadn’t felt since Krzeminski was killed. Oh. Peggy’s stomach drops as she makes her way towards her desk to drop her things off. She’s just about to make her way to Thompson’s office when the door opens and a man she doesn’t know steps out. 

“Alright listen up,” The man says, his voice booming. He’s in his mid-forties, six foot and a couple of inches, and starting to turn a bit round and soft in places that may have once been firm and trim. “This is what we know so far.” His accent marked him as a man from Boston perhaps. “Sometime yesterday after returning from L.A. Chief Thompson was shot in his apartment. He was found by an old army buddy of his who didn’t know he was back and had come over to feed his cat. Thompson is still in surgery, so we don’t know if we’re looking for a murder or attempted murder, but whoever this guy is we’re gonna find him and we’re gonna make him pay.” 

When the loud man began doling out assignments it was easy for Peggy to realize he had been sent from D.C. to step into Thompson’s role as chief. When he asked if anyone had any questions two of the men she’d worked with since day one muttered. “Thompson has a cat?” and “Thompson has a friend?” She cuts her gaze towards them, giving them a soft glare. “Boys, really?” 

Both men drop their gazes and mutter, “Sorry Peg.” 

Once the fill in chief gives his orders a lot of the guys go off to do as their told, but some of the men, the ones who have seen what Peggy can do, had been there in ‘46 when she saved Stark’s ass, brought Dooley’s killer to justice, and captured Dottie Underwood, looked to her as if to ask her option. She gives them a small nod for now.

The fill in chief notices and narrows his eyes. “Why is there a girl in my bullpen? This ain’t no place for a girl.” 

One of the other agents replies, “That’s not a girl, Chief, that’s Agent Carter.” 

Peggy takes it as a compliment. 

The chief eyes her critically. “So, you’re Carter.” 

“Yes Sir,” Peggy nods. 

The chief sniffs. “Didn’t think you’d be so pretty. The way they talk about you in D.C. I was expecting one of those husky manish broads. Well, I suppose I have to give you something to do too, so, why don’t you head to the hospital and see what you can learn about Thompson’s condition. Damn mother hens won’t tell me bupkis cause I ain’t a family member or some such crap.” 

Well, at least it wasn’t fetching him coffee and a sandwich. Peggy nods, asks one of the boys for which hospital Thompson’s in, and then grabs her things. She, Thompson, and Daniel just faced off with a clandestine cabal of powerful men, could they have had something to do with Thompson’s being shot? Whitney Frost hadn’t left anyone on the council alive, but that didn’t mean there weren’t men out there waiting to fill those empty chairs at the table in the room where it appears to happen. It was a reasonable assumption, and yet Peggy didn’t think that was it, her gut was telling her it wasn’t the cabal, but something else, something stirred up by the cabal but not them directly. As Peggy set out to discover what happened to Jack Thompson she found herself missing Jarvis’ presence at her side.

The next few days were spent trying to puzzle together what happened to Thompson. He was currently in a coma, still in critical condition, but he had at least come through the surgery. It wasn’t looking good for him, and that drove Peggy to find the person who did this. Luckily for her she wasn’t saddled with a blowhard of a male jackass who did nothing but get in her way, like Thompson normally did. The fill in chief had tried to sideline her by bringing in his own agents, but that blew up in his face, because the agent he brought in from D.C. to lead the investigation, one of the S.S.R’s best, used to be a Howling Commando, former Sergeant Nick Fury. 

“How is it possible that you’ve gotten even more stubborn since the end of the war, Carter?” Fury grumbles at Peggy late one night. “Go the fuck home, woman.” 

“Still ever the charming gentleman, Nick.” Peggy grips good naturedly at him.

He winks at her, “Lots of good looking women all across Europe seemed to think I was.”

Peggy groans, but there’s a slight smirk on her lips. She missed the Howlies, and it was nice getting to work with one again. In a perfect world she’d get to work with them all again, all the time, have them at her back once more, but the world was far from perfect so she would just have to settle for these rare team ups. “Your exploits would make for a hell of a novel.” 

Fury laughs. “Funny you mention that, you remember that British navel kid who followed us around for months? Fleming? He’s thinking about writing a book.” 

Peggy laughs and it eases some of the tension in her shoulders and decompresses some of the pressure in her head. Nick was right, she needed to step away and clear her head, catch her breath, let her body recharge. Normally at this point Jarvis would take her home, and she would unwind in the bath with a glass of bourbon and a trashy novel, but Jarvis wasn’t around to mother hen her. So instead of heading home Peggy found herself stepping into what was clearly a speakeasy for queer women. 

Since she was coming from work she wasn’t wearing her best night out on the town attire. She was in a blue pinstripe suit, her curls having softened into long waves, she had it pinned back away from her face, and was wearing her favorite hat. Even though she wasn’t dressed to the nines she still turned more than a few heads as she made her way to the bar. 

“Hey kitten?” Bea says as she sets a drink down on the bar, her gaze locked on the new comer. 

“Yeah Bea?” Angie replies as she picks the drink up. It had been a long week full of rehearsals for the play Angie had gotten the part for, and shifts at the cafe. Angie was bone tired, but not in the mood to rattle around the penthouse alone knowing Peggy was probably going to end up working late again. So she’d stopped at Bea’s for a drink and some gossip. 

Bea smirks. “You got some kinda magic powers I don’t know about?” 

Angie blinks as she tilts her head to the side a bit. “No, why?” 

“Because, you know that dame you’ve been talkin’ about?” Bea says as she jerks her chin towards the door. “I think you spoke her into existence, kitten.” 

Angie turns to look at what Bea’s talking about just as she takes a drink from her glass. When she lays eyes on the dame in question she begins to choke on her Gin Rickey as she shoots to her feet. When her blue eyes find Peggy’s brown ones, gazes locked, eyes wide, Angie squeaks out in a panic. “Peggy?” 

Peggy’s heart stops when she sees Angie. The air in her lungs remained there even as her lungs began to burn in warning that she needed to breathe. Panic rises in her chest as her stomach knots up. When Angie’s gaze locks with her own, Peggy nearly bolts for the door, but then Angie speaks, a million questions held within a simple name. A million more asked in return, “Angie?” 

Angie rushes over to her friend, confused, frightened, panicked. How had Peggy stumbled upon Bea’s place? Oh God, was she here officially? Was she here to investigate the place and close it down? Was she here to arrest Bea and Rue? “Peggy,” She says in a rush as she grabs Peggy’s upper arm and tries to turn her back towards the door. “You can’t be here, Peggy. This, this ain’t no place for you.” 

“But it is a place for you?” Peggy asks, rooting herself to the spot. What was Angie doing here? She was a good girl, a good, honest, wholesome, Catholic girl who loved God, the Church, and her mother. What was she doing in a queer speakeasy? “What are you doing here, Angie?” 

“I… I….I…” Angie stammered, her bright blue eyes filling with tears. 

“Angie?”” Peggy says more gently. “Angie, are you…” Angie panics and dashes for the door. Peggy’s stuned for a moment, only a few seconds, but then she blinks, shakes her head a bit to clear the hurricane of thoughts and feelings that’s threatening to drown her, and then takes off after her. “Angie, wait!” She calls out, “Angie!” She isn’t that far behind, she should have found Angie on the street, she should have been able to catch her and ask her, dare she hope, if perhaps she was like her? But when she made it outside Peggy didn’t see Angie anywhere. “Angie? Angie?” 

Angie was nowhere in sight. She vanished, poof, in the split second it took for Peggy to snap out of her shock at seeing her. Fear ripped through Peggy Carter like a tidal wave. “Angie!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this long before the chapter in The Love Life of Natasha Carter, and I didn't realized the similarities in the cliffhanger until I was editing to post. I just wanted to apologize for the repeated use of the missing trope.


	5. Chapter 5

Peggy Carter was going to set the world on fire and watch it burn if she didn’t find Angie Martinelli soon. It had been twenty-four hours since Angie disappeared outside a bookstore slash secert queer women speakeasy, and Peggy was going out of her mind. It truly felt like Angie had vanished into thin air, leaving no air for Peggy to breathe. She couldn’t find a single clue or lead. She had no idea where to even start looking, or even where to start thinking. Who would have taken her? Who could have taken her so quickly and cleanly? Why had she been taken? Was it one of Peggy’s enemies? Or was it something a little more common? Angie was coming out of queer bussiness. Could she have been caught up by the authorities? Men in white coats sent to capture her and take her to some unspeakable place to make her normal by electrifying her brain?

Shaking off the worst of those theories, Peggy circled back to the other flood of feelings and thoughts whirlwinding through her mind and heart. Angie had been in a queer women’s bar, of her own accord, half way through what looked like a Gin Rickey. Had she allowed her own fears and concerns blind her to that little detail about Angie? Peggy had always been fairly good at gauging another woman’s interest in such anomalous activities, and yet she seems to have missed it in Angie. The thought that perhaps Angie could feel for her the way she felt for Angie was both thrilling and absolutely bloody terrifying. 

“We’ll find your friend, Carter.” Nick Fury says as he watches Peggy tremble with anger and fear. They’d just stepped into the penthouse so Peggy could go through Angie’s things again. “But you need to take a step back and focus.” 

Peggy whirls around with a biting comment on the tip of her tongue, but when her doe eyes, full of concern and fire, landed on the man she couldn't help but come up short. Fury wasn’t looking at her in the patronizing way she'd been expecting, that look men get when they think women are being too emotional and soft. No, Fury with his piercing green eyes warm and full of understanding was looking at her as if he somehow understood her in a way that frightened her. He couldn’t, he couldn’t possibly understand.

Fury reaches up and runs his hand through his molasses colored hair which was starting to gray at the temples. “Look, Carter, I got no room to judge no one. Ain’t gonna say I understand certain things, but I ain’t gonna condemn no one for living their life as long as it ain’t hurting people.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a photograph, which makes him nearly smile before he holds it out to Peggy. “Nia.” He tells her. “I’d marry her in a heartbeat, but the law says I can’t, I’m gonna do it anyway someday, law be fucking damned. I love that woman.”

Accepting the picture Peggy finds herself looking at a beautiful young woman who’s younger than herself by several years, with a dazing smile, and intelligent, determined looking eyes, and very dark skin. “Never thought I’d hear a casanova like you say the word marry, Nick.” 

“Yeah,” He snorts as he takes the picture back and replaces it in the hidden pocket of his suit jacket. “Me neither, but Nia, Nia’s special, Peg.”

That’s what Ana had said about Jarvis, that he was special, and that it didn’t take much for a heart to realize it was meant for that something special. Angie was special. Peggy hadn’t missed the similarities in the social acceptance of relationships of the people telling her it was ok to have feelings for Angie. Ana was Jewish, Edwin Protestant, their marriage was considered mixed, and not socially acceptable in many circles. Even now anti-Semitism clung to socitey in a way that clawed at Peggy’s throat, making her want to claw the eyes out of anyone foolish enough to disresecpt her friend. Nick Fury, a white man, was in love with Nia, a black woman, and wanted to marry her, which was against the law in the United States. They could marry in the United Kingdom, but like Ana and Edwin, it wasn’t socially favoriable. Peggy and Angie, however, would never be allowed to marry, anywhere, they would have to keep anything between them a secret. Queer women were less likely to be arrested on anti-homosexual laws, but they could still be seen a mentally unfit and forced into treatment that boardered on inhumane torture. They could also lose their jobs, homes, and even their children, if not their freedom and self rights. 

Still, even a sliver of possible understanding and non-judgment was more than Peggy could have ever hoped for. So she sighed softly and said, “I have to find her, Nick. If something were to happen to her because of me I wouldn’t be able to live with that.”

“We will, Peg.” Nick replies, setting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing it supportively. Then smirks at her. “And God have mercy on the dumbass motherfucker who has her when you find them.”

Forty-eight hours after Angie goes missing, Peggy gets a note. ‘You need a new dress.’ It reads with a time and place, the ladies section of Macy’s at one o’clock. It also warned, ‘Girls only.’ So Peggy went on her own, and it didn’t take long for her to spot the tall, willowy woman, even if she did have red hair now. It took everything in Peggy to keep her cover, to play along, and not to rip an arm off one of the mannequins and use it to beat Dottie Underwood until she told her where Angie was. 

“What do you think, Peg?” Dottie asks as she turns to face Peggy, a sickeningly wholesome smile on her lips as she holds up a dark green dress. “Do you think it’ll highlight my eyes?” 

Peggy imagined herself wrapping her hands around Dottie’s slender throat and squeezing until that fake corn fed smile was gone. In reality she shifted through the racks as if looking at the dresses hanging there. She turns her head to look at Dottie, “Where’s Angie?” 

Dottie put the dress back as she said, “She’s safe, comfortable even.” 

“If you’ve hurt her…” Peggy begins, but doesn’t get to finish her threat. 

“I haven’t hurt her, Peggy, I promise.” Dottie looks right into Peggy’s fire filled eyes. “I want you to help me, not kill me. I just needed to get your attention, as soon as I’ve told you what I need help with, I’ll tell you where she is.”

Peggy fisted a rather pretty rich red dress in her hand to the point where she was damaging the fabric. “Talk fast.” 

“Because of you I’ve been marked for termination.” Dottie tells her. Though it looks as if she’s pouting, her eyes are full of anger and betrayal. Some of that rage is reserved for Peggy, but most of it is for the people turning their backs on her. She doesn’t bother trying to hide any of that from Peggy. “You owe me, Peggy.” 

“I don’t owe you anything but a trip to a prison cell.” Peggy hisses, taking a step closer to the other woman. She has taken a long dress from the rack, ready and able to use it as a weapon if need be. 

“I promised no harm to Angie. I like Angie.” Dottie replies with a shrug. “I don’t like Stark. He and his manservant are on a yacht right now you know, sailing happily around Santa Barbara, Howard is trying desperately to impress a new starlet. It would be a shame if his little boat blew up.” Dottie smiled sweetly. “Plus, I won’t be able to help you find the man who shot Jackie boy if you throw me to the wolves, Peg.” 

Peggy’s face was starting to flush, she could feel it, the heat of her anger as it spread across her skin. She forced herself to take a breath and calm herself. “Was that you?” 

“No.” Dottie answered with a shake of her head that made her red hair dance around her shoulders. “Jackie boy had something he shouldn’t have, he was clean up. I’m actually the target.” Picking up the first dress she’d shown Peggy, Dottie drapes it over her arm. Then she pulls a key from her pocketbook, it has an address and room number on it, and tosses it at Peggy. “I’ll be in touch, Peg. It was lovely seeing you again!” 

Somehow, through pure strength of will, Peggy manages to walk out of the department store and to the car she was driving, calmly. She even managed to cling to that sense of calm as she makes her way out to the seaside motel whose address is on the tag on the key. This time of year the area is deserted, a good place to stash someone. Peggy pulls her gun before she gets out of the car, and slowly, cautiously, makes her way to the room number on the key. It’s on the third floor, overlooking the beach, and when Peggy reaches the door she pauses outside to listen. When she doesn’t hear anything coming from within the room she carefully maneuvers herself so she can unlock and open the door safely. Slipping the key in, Peggy turns it slowly so the click is as quiet as possible. Then she reaches for the knob, tightens her hold on her gun, and turns the knob. Pushing the door open slowly she slips inside, gun raised, finger near the trigger. 

The main room is empty. Peggy’s heart is pounding in her chest, beating out a painful rhythm of fear, anger, and anticipation. After checking the bathroom is clear, she says a silent prayer, and then Peggy calls out, “Angie?” There’s a muffled thump from the closet in response. Peggy inches her way towards it and as she gets closer she can hear other muffled sounds. Again she adjusts her grip on her gun as she reaches for the doorknob, turning it slowly, and pulling open the door. She’s met with the sight of Angie, gagged and tied to a chair. “Angie!” 

Two days ago Angie ran out of Bea’s in a panic because Peggy had walked in and seen her there. She ran like a flippin’ coward, her heart racing, tears burning her eyes, her stomach twisting up into a knot. She ran right out the door, and right into that fake hayseed Dottie Underwood. She didn’t even have time to think before Dottie, that low down dirty red, was kissing her. Angie had felt dizzy and the next thing she knows she’s in this motel room tied to a chair. Dottie, the rotten louse, hadn’t been unkind to her. In fact, after making it clear that she didn’t want to hurt Angie but she would if she tried to get away, Dottie had untied her shortly after she’d come too. Peggy had warned her about Dottie, not in great detail, but enough that Angie knew not to play games with the other woman. When Angie had asked why Dottie had taken her, what she was up to, Dottie had said she needed Peggy’s help with something and taking her was just a way to get Peggy’s attention. 

Doubt had crept into Angie’s chest. She wasn’t so sure Peggy would give Dottie the attention or help she wanted over her. If Peggy knew what kind of place Bea’s was, who the clientele was, there was no way she was going to come rushing to her rescue after finding Angie there. That morning as Dottie was tying her to the chair in the closet, and before she’d gagged her, she’d said she was going to go fetch Peggy and Angie had replied, “Yeah, good luck with that.” 

Then she sat there with nothing to do but think. All she had to do was hide her true nature and she could have had Peggy in her life as a friend until they were crabby old ladies who overfeed their grandchildren and told stories of their youth. Now she’d be lucky if her things weren’t on the street, and men in white coats didn’t come pick her up and take her to some hospital for women like her. Having a dramatic imagination wasn’t always a great thing to have, because when she heard movement in the outer room she tensed up, her heart seized up, and her lungs held onto the air they’d taken in, and she waited for the worse. But then she heard Peggy’s voice, that beautiful accepted voice, call out her name and tears welled in Angie’s eyes as she made noise to let Peggy know where she was.

“Angie!” Peggy’s voice was full of emotion, causing it to crack, and that surprised Angie. As Peggy loomed over her, untying the nylons that were keeping a washcloth in her mouth, Angie saw her big brown eyes were glistening with tears. Once the nylons and washcloth were tossed to the floor Peggy reached out and cupped Angie’s face. Her hands were trembling and Angie jerked on her tied down hands because she wanted to reach up and put them on top of Peggy’s to keep them there. “Peggy.” 

“Oh darling, are you alright?” Peggy asks as she begins freeing Angie from the chair. “Did she hurt you?” 

Angie shook her head. She was feeling a little dazed from the rush of emotion and the added hormone rush they were causing, given how she’d already been hopped up on fear, panic, and adrenaline. “She didn’t hurt me, Peggy, I’m alright.” She reassured, and before she could stop herself she added, “You came for me.” 

Once she had Angie free of the ropes and chair Peggy reached for her, pulling the slightly shorter and slightly younger woman into her arms and hugging her tight. “Of course I came for you, Angie. Why wouldn’t I have come for you?” 

Angie’s welling tears now rolled down her cheeks as she clung to Peggy. Peggy was hugging her tightly like she never wanted to let her go. Peggy wasn’t disgusted by her! She’d been looking for her and found her! Angie let out a sob she couldn’t hold back. 

The sob caused Peggy to tighten her hold on Angie and for a while the two women just stood there locked in an embrace neither wanted to get out of. Peggy did eventually loosen her hold on the smaller woman when she felt Angie relax. Pulling back, but not completely out of the embrace, Peggy looked into Angie’s watery blue eyes and saw the kind of relief that can only follow a bout of overwhelming fear. If it weren’t for the uncertainty she also saw in Angie’s eyes, Peggy might have thought the fear had been caused by being kidnapped and held by Dottie. But the uncertainty she was seeing seemed to be aimed at her. “Angie, why did you think I wouldn’t come for you?” 

Angie sniffled as she looked into Peggy’s eyes. She really wanted to look away from those big brown doe eyes as they waited on her reply, but she couldn’t seem to make herself do it. Peggy was holding her gaze as firmly as she’d just been holding her face in her hands. Warm, strong hands, callased and yet soft, holding her face so delicately and yet so firmly. Angie began to blush. “It’s just that I thought… I thought that… I was afraid that after…” Angie finally managed to make her eyes close, and she took a breath. When she opened her eyes again Peggy was still looking at her with soft concern and confusion. “Why were you at Bea’s?” 

Peggy blinked at the question. She’d been trying to decipher Angie’s half sentences to put together a full thought. The way Angie was looking up at her, she knew that her response needed to be an honest one because anything short of the truth would hurt Angie. And Angie had been hurt enough because of her. Taking a deep breath, Peggy tries to smile as she says, “Rue invited me.” 

“Rue?” Angie blinked. “Invited… Peg,” Angie drops her voice as not to be overhead in the empty room in a closed down motel. “Do you know what kinda place that was?” 

“A speakeasy for women who prefer the intimate company of other women?” Peggy nods. “Yes, I knew that.” 

Angie was wide eyed but then she narrowed those smokey blue eyes. “Were you there officially, English? To cause trouble to Bea and Rue? They’re good people, Peggy.”

“I know they are, Angie.” Peggy replies. They’d finally stepped completely out of their embrace, and Peggy wasn’t sure what to do with her arms at the moment. Crossing them seemed wrong, that could come across as judgemental which is far from what she was. What she was, was feeling very vulnerable at the moment and that made her uncomfortable. “I would never turn over a safe space like that. I was there for, well, personal reasons.” 

Angie blinked, stared, blinked again and then slammed her hands on her hips. “Peggy Carter! Are you… Do you… Are you tellin’ me you….” 

“Enjoy the companionship of women as much as men?” Peggy replies, her awkward smile shifting into a smirk as she nods. “Yes.” She would have laughed at the way Angie’s jaw drops, but now that the ice was broken, Peggy feels imbolden. “Angie, are you queer?” 

Angie simply nods. 

“And that’s why you thought I wouldn’t come? Because I saw you at Bea’s and you thought I’d hate you?” Peggy’s heart broke a little at having caused Angie pain over this. “Oh Angie.”

“I’m normally better at seein’ a violet when she’s in front of me.” Angie says as she ducks her head. “But I didn’t with you, maybe it’s the spy thing, or the British thing, I don’t know, I just know that you threw me off, English.” 

Angie had thrown her off too, but Peggy now knew it was for much deeper reasons. And now, without the buffers of ignorance, it would be even harder to conceal and ignore those reasons. Peggy suddenly found herself in love with someone who could possibly love her back. Peggy wanted that, she wanted it more than anything, but Angie had just been kidnapped to get her attention by a mentally unhinged assassin, and she’d been willing to do whatever it took to get Angie back. 

“Everything alright, English?” Angie asks after watching Peggy for a few moments. She wished she could see into the other woman’s head, because she really would like to know if there was a chance she could be someone Peggy enjoyed the companionship of. 

Peggy pushes away her fears and smiles a reassuring smile. “It will be, Angie. Come along now, let's get you home.” 

Angie nods and lets Peggy lead her out to the car. “Thanks for coming to get me, Peggy.” 

“I will always come when you need me, Angie.” Peggy replies once they’re both settled into the front seat. “I promise.”


	6. Chapter 6

It was frustrating to say the least. Angie refused to go someplace safe. Peggy was all set to send the other woman to California to stay with the Jarvises, but Angie outright refused. She insisted she could take care of herself, and if Peggy was so damn worried over her safety then she could teach her how to protect herself better. That wasn’t a bad idea. She could teach Angie a few things that would help set her mind at ease, but that would have to wait until after she closed her current case. A case that somehow found her working once again with Dottie Underwood. Peggy never liked having to interact with Dottie, and now after Dottie’s little stunt involving Angie, it irritated her even more. Was she honestly supposed to think this loon wouldn’t hurt Angie to get to her? What good was the word of a Russian assassin spy anyway? Then again, it was the word of the Russian assassin that had Peggy in this predicament, because if she didn’t help her, Dottie had promised to hurt the other people Peggy cared about. Peggy grumbled unhappy over the whole situation. 

“Everything alright, Peggy?” Dottie asked in that sickeningly sweet voice of hers. 

“Fine.” Peggy snipped at her. “Just get on with it, Dottie.” 

Peggy had barely had Angie home a full hour before she’d gotten a message from Dottie with a time and place to meet. She debated going alone or taking backup, and in the end since this apparently had something to do with who shot Jack Thompson, Peggy decided to bring Nick along. Dottie had pouted over it at first, and then she started flirting with Nick to push Peggy’s buttons because the last thing she wanted to do was spend even a moment watching Dottie and Fury pointlessly flirt. When she’d shot a steely glare at Nick, the man just shrugged and said, “She wouldn't be my first Russian spy.” Which just made Peggy throw her hands up and grumble some more. 

“So, as I was saying,” Dottie continued. “While everyone was busy fussing over the Germans, no one was watching us, so we were able to develop programs right under your allied noses.” She smiled proudly, but it was a touch to fake and Peggy knew it. “The Red Room is where I came from. Peggy saw one of our facilities for herself a couple years ago.” 

“Given your age, that project has to predate even Project Rebirth.” Peggy points out. 

Dottie pouted. “Are you calling me old, Peg?” She held her pout for a moment longer, and when it was clear she wasn’t getting a response from Peggy she shrugged and went on. “The Red Room was started during the first war, when it became clear that the world was larger than expected, and we were not the only power around. The world had changed, politics had exploded beyond the royal courts, and warfare beyond continents.”

“So they started training little girls in combat, espionage, and murder.” Peggy huffs, arms cross, anger and disgust written all over her face. 

“We’re women, Peg.” Dottie nods. “They overlook us, who better to do it?” She gets up from where she’d been sitting and starts to pace. “The second war and the success of Project Rebirth changed everything, however. Moscow was no longer happy with playing long games, they wanted super soldiers and they wanted them now. So, Leviathan was born and the experiments started. They wanted what they had in us, the ability to infiltrate seamlessly into any country in the world, with the skills that took us a lifetime to learn and master.” Bitterness had seeped into Dottie’s voice for a moment but then she paused, clenched her jaw, and when she began again her voice was back to that soft sweet tone of hers. “So they needed men who were already trained with the skills they wanted, men who could be dropped anywhere in the world and not be conspicuous, so they started collecting them.” 

“Collecting them?” This time it was Fury who spoke up, his muscles tense at where this was going. 

“P.O.Ws.” Peggy says, glaring at Dottie. 

Dottie nods. “Here’s where the experinmenting comes in. These men needed to be loyal, they would need to do as they were told, no questions asked, just complete their missions, again, and again, and again, until they died.” 

“How?” Peggy is gripping the arms of the chair so tightly her knuckles are white. “How did they plan on making these men do this?” 

Dottie smiles as she walks over to Peggy. She reaches out and plays with one of Peggy’s curls as she asks, “How did we first meet, Pegs?” 

“Johann Fennhoff.” Peggy catches Dottie’s wrist in her hand and holds it tightly as she shots the other woman a warning look. “They’re using mind control.” 

Dottie speaks in Russian and then translates, “Winter’s Soldiers, is what the program is called, and they’ve sent one to kill me. If he succeeds in killing a Black Widow, he’ll be moved on to the next phase of experiments, and trust me Peg. You don’t want them reaching the final level. You don’t want one of these men becoming the Winter Soldier.” 

Peggy stands, her grip on Dottie’s wrist still painfully tight, and looks the other woman in the eye. “Why are you telling us this? Why should we believe a word you’ve said?” 

“Because they’ve turned their backs on me.” Dottie hissed, not out of the pain Peggy was causing, but because of the pain her homeland’s betrayal was causing. “I gave them everything, my life, my devotion, my loyalty, my body, my soul, my heart, and they’ve given me nothing. They’ve given me a death sentence.”

Deciding to break things up before someone’s bones gets snapped Fury speaks up. “This could be useful information, but what does it have to do with Thompson?” 

“My guess is that pretty boy found out something he shouldn't have.” Dottie answers. “Intel that could have exposed the operative sent to kill me. That intel needed to be reclaimed, and Jackie boy disposed of.” 

Peggy lets go of Dottie as she hums softly while she thinks. “It must have been something Thompson learned while we were in L.A.” 

“Any idea what it could have been?” Fury asks. 

“No.” Peggy admits. “But I intend to find out.” 

It started to feel as if she were chasing ghosts, and if not for Angie who was always there when she came home exhausted and weary, Peggy might have cracked this time. How many men had she served with during the war, had gone M.I.A, and were now presumed dead? Could any of them have been taken and used as disposable fodder in this post war world? The thought made her shudder. 

“This one is really getting to you, huh, Peg?” Angie asks as she reaches across the sofa to rub Peggy’s arm comfortingly. 

Peggy sighs softly as she continues to stare unseeingly into her cup of tea. She was waiting on a phone call, a possible lead, and until she got it there wasn’t much she could do. So she’d come home to get some sleep, a shower, and then she’d head back out, but Angie insisted she eat first. Apparently Angie had had a very enlightening long distance phone call with Edwin Jarvis in which they discussed her. Jarvis had advised Angie on the proper way of caring for a case engrossed Agent Carter. “She’ll forget to eat until she’s ravenous, so you’ll need to see she eats regularly, just slip the food into her vicinity and she’ll start to eat without thinking.” Had been one suggestion. “If she isn’t sleeping, give her peppermint tea, her mother used to give it to her as a child when she was overly tired and it still works.” Had been another. “Do try and remind her that all of the ills of the world are not her fault. She will try very hard to blame herself for everything, especially if she’s frustrated with how things are going.” 

“You’re doing everything you can, English.” Angie reassures as she slips closer to Peggy’s side and puts her arm around her shoulders. “Give yourself a break, hon. It really isn’t being fair to yourself, laying all this crap at your own feet, you didn’t make a mess of the world Peggy.”

“Perhaps not, but I can bloody well try and fix it.” Peggy replies as she leans into Angie a bit. “I didn’t fight in a bloody war to watch it all go pear shaped now.” 

The indignant huff Peggy lets out is the most adorable sound Angie’s ever heard the woman make and it has Angie grinning. After she’d gotten Peggy to eat a full meal, they’d retreated to the living room and turned on the radio. As Peggy muttered and ranted out her frustration, Angie pulled her closer and began to hum along to the song playing. 

Maybe it was the plate of pasta she’d had for dinner, or the peppermint tea Angie had made for her, or the soft humming, but Peggy slowly began to unwind and relax. She felt the weight she carried on her shoulders everyday lift, and before she realized what she was doing she was laying her head on Angie’s shoulder, curling her legs under her, and closing her eyes. 

Angie took the tea cup from Peggy’s hand and set it behind them on the table behind the large sofa they settled on. Then she reached for the throw and draped it over Peggy once she was sure the other woman was asleep. If Peggy Carter was going to insist on saving and protecting the world against every boogeyman just beyond the shadows, then Angie Martinelli was going to look after and protect Peggy Carter.

The call Peggy had been waiting on was from James Montgomery Falsworth who was now working for British Intelligence. He told her that Jack Thompson had visited London awhile back, meeting with a low level colleague of his, who had rooted around for information which he then handed over to Thompson. The information seemed to be the fake file Thompson had confronted her with back in L.A., only the file wasn’t fake, it was very much real. It just wasn’t hers. The M. Carter in that file was Michael. How was that possible? Michael was dead. He died in the line of duty, his body had been identified, they’d been given an official location of his burial place, they’d held a memorial for him on the day she was meant to marry Fred. It can’t be Michael, it just can’t be. 

She takes a picture of him with her the next time she meets with Dottie. When Dottie confirms the man in photo was a Winter’s Soldier agent, it felt like she was beating Peggy with that baseball ball all over again. Peggy kicks into high gear after that. She sends Fury to Russia to get proof of the brainwashed P.O.Ws, and enlists Chester Phillps’ help, because this was no longer just about bringing Thompson’s shooter to justice, or playing Dottie’s game, it was about saving her brother. It’s not easy, and it ends in a fight that nearly kills them both, but in the end Michael is captured and thanks to Chester he’s sent to a place that will help him recover himself and heal. What happens to him as far as his war crimes and the things he did as an enemy asset, that was still to be determined. 

When Peggy was released from the hospital Jarvis was there to pick her up and drive her home. She was shocked but also rather pleased to see him. She’d missed him terribly, and with her feelings about Michael all shambled, it was nice to have Jarvis around to sooth her. He’d become something of a surrogate brother to her during their adventures. Ana had missed New York, Jarvis had told her, so they’d decided to return to New York and their little house on the grounds of the Stark mansion. When they got back to the penthouse Jarvis handed her over to Angie, who could have honestly given the nurses at the army hospital lessons on keeping an eye on their patients. Peggy had managed to slip out of her room and into Michael’s to sit at his bedside, holding his strapped down hand in her own, and crying into his blech scented hospital gown, more than once. Now Peggy couldn’t even cross her room to the loo without Angie’s voice calling out, “English, what are you doin’ outta bed?” 

“How do you bloody know I’m out of bed?” Peggy calls back. When she comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later Angie’s leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom with her arms crossed over her chest. “Oh for christ’s sake, Angela, I had to wee!” 

Angie chuckled as she simply pointed at Peggy’s bed. “You damn near died, Margaret, so until that damn stab wound heals you’re gonna do as the docs said and keep your ass in bed.” 

Nearly killing her had been what brought Michael back to her. He’d looked into her eyes, they had the same eyes, as he shoved the knife into her and this time when she whispered his name, “Michael.” He’d blinked, and a moment later, as her blood warmed his hand he gasped as tears filled his eyes. “Peggy?” Fury shot him, Michael stumbled backwards, and she woke up in an army hospital under Phillips’ orders. 

Peggy grumbled as she settled herself back in her bed. “I didn’t get this much grief when I got impaled on rebar.” 

“Yeah, Mr. Fancy told me.” Angie said as she tucked her back in. “Warned me you were a horrible patient, but you can’t boss me around like you did him. Now, stay put until I finish dinner, and yell for me if you need anything. You shouldn’t be moving around on your own, Peggy.” 

With her arms crossed over her chest Peggy pouts. Angie just shakes her head, chuckles, and heads back downstairs to finish making dinner. A few evenings later when Angie hears Peggy moving around in her room again and she goes up to tease her, she doesn’t find the brunette coming out of the bathroom. Instead she sees Peggy sitting on her bed with a couple of old photo albums open, she’s reaching out and caressing one of the pictures in the book and Angie’s curious. Walking over to the bed she gently sits on the edge and peers over at the photograph. Peggy looked as if she were maybe fifteen in the picture. She and Michael were dressed in summer play clothes, tennis rackets in their hands, and huge smiles on their faces as they stood side by side on an old clay tennis court that looked as if it had seen better days. 

“Michael never expected me to be anyone other than myself.” Peggy says softly and without taking her gaze from the collection of old photos. “He didn’t care that I was different from normal girls, he encouraged my unlady like tendencies, much to our mother’s dismay.” 

“He sounds like he was a pretty swell big brother.” Angie said softly while reaching out to wipe away a tear from Peggy’s chin before it had a chance to drip onto her pictures. 

“He was.” Peggy nods. “I adored him.”

“He’ll get better, Pegs.” Angie reassures. “You’ll get your Michael back, I’m sure of it, you Carters tend to be a stubborn bunch, he’ll do what he has to, to come back to you.” 

“I hope so.” Peggy looks up and smiles at the woman sitting beside her. Angie’s fingers on her chin and cheek feel warm and soft, and they make Peggy’s heart flutter. Throughout all of this Angie had been there for her, no matter how crazy things got, or how out of sorts Peggy got, Angie had remained, offering comfort and support. She really was quite remarkable. “He only ever wanted me to be happy as who I was, not pretending to be happy as someone everyone else wanted me to be.” She chewed her bottom lip for a moment and then smiled. “He’d like you.” 

“You think so?” Angie asked, feeling a shift in the air between them. 

Peggy nods. “You’ve brought joy back into my life, Angie. I didn’t think I’d ever have that again.” 

“You deserve joy, and happiness, and all the good things in life, Peggy.” Angie inches a little closer. When Peggy told her about serving in the war, she also told her about Steve Rogers. It explained the sorrow that seemed to cling to Peggy in those early months of their friendship. Angie couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like, to have such a strong connection to someone almost instantly, and then to never get the chance to explore it, to see if that spark would flourish. Biting her lip, Angie looks into Peggy’s eyes, big brown pools of perfectly tempered chocolate with swirls of honey when the light hits them just right. “Ok Peg, look, I’m gonna do something that’s either really brave or really stupid and I need you to just shut up and listen, ok?” 

“Alright.” Peggy replies, eyebrow high with curiously, heart beginning to flutter in her chest.

“Right. Ok.” Angie takes a deep breath, bits her lip again, and then says, “So, see, here’s the thing, English. I went and did something kinda stupid. I went and fell in love with my best friend, not even known she was half a violet, and now that I know she is, I’ve been fightin’ with the idea of whether or not I should tell her. But then she goes and nearly gets her damn self killed, and I know I gotta tell her, cause time’s too damn short and really fickle, so.” Angie pauses to take another deep breath. “Peggy, I know I ain’t no Captain America, I’m not Steve, but I…”

“Angie stop.” Peggy rushed in. 

“English!” Angie scolded. 

Peggy shakes her head and reaches for Angie’s hands. “No, darling, stop, please. Please don’t ever compare yourself to Steve. He was very special to me, yes, and I’ll always carry him with me. But Steve is a wonderful memory of an otherwise dark time in my life. He’s in my past.” Peggy wraps her hands around Angie’s and brings them up to press against her chest. “And I am done living in the past. I would much rather live in the present, because you see, I’ve come to the realization that I’ve gone and let myself fall in love with someone, it’s quite unexpected really, and perhaps a bit foolish of me, but she’s rather remarkable and I simply adore her.”

“Shut up, English.” Angie’s voice trembles as she speaks but she’s smiling. She can hear her heart pounding in her ears as she slowly leans in closer to kiss Peggy. “You talk too much.” 

She closes the remaining distance between them and presses her lips to Angie’s as her eyes close. Suddenly Peggy feels as if, until this moment, she’d been standing under dark rain clouds as it poured, and now the sun’s come out, and the sky is clear and bright. One kiss becomes two, and then three, before they stop and press their foreheads together as they hold tightly to each other's hands. “Angie?” 

“Yeah Peg?” Angie replies, eyes closed as she drinks in Peggy’s presence like a man just out of the desert gulps down water. 

Peggy smiles. “Would you like to go dancing with me?” 

Angie sits back and opens her eyes. Peggy’s looking at her with such hope in her own eyes that she can’t help but smile. “I’d love to, Peggy.” She can see Peggy’s excitement spike and adds, “Once you’re released from bed rest by the docs.” 

“I defeated Nazis with worse injuries than this, Angela!” Peggy huffs with a pout. 

“I don’t care, Margaret!” Angie argued back. “Now stop your whining and kiss me again.” 

Peggy sighs dramatically but she grinning happily, “Oh, bloody nora, what have I gotten myself into.”


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a busy day at the cafe and Angie was tired, but in a good mood. Her feet ached, and her shoulders were sore, but not only were the customers who came into the cafe nicer than the ones at the diner, they tipped better too, so she didn’t mind coming home aching. As soon as she closes the front door behind her Angie toes off her work shoes and nudges them into a corner with her stocking feet. As she shrugs out of her fall jacket and pads towards the coat closet she calls out for Peggy, and isn’t surprised when she doesn’t get an answer. It was pretty normal for her to get home from work long before Peggy did, but since it was a Friday night she was kind of hoping Peggy would be home. 

They were taking things slow following their little heart to heart in Peggy’s room, mostly because Peggy had been busy healing from having yet another mental object shoved into the soft vital core of her body. Knowing that Peggy felt the same way about her that she felt about Peggy had loosened the restraint Angie had put on herself about touching Peggy, and being closer to Peggy. She no longer forced herself to keep touches to Peggy’s hands, arms, or shoulders. Now Angie didn’t hesitate to caress Peggy’s cheek, or settle a hand on Peggy’s hip or thigh. She no longer forced herself to keep space between them when they hugged, or count to five in her head to make sure the hug didn’t last too long. She could hold onto Peggy as long as she wanted to now, and it was wonderful. There were also now, much to Angie’s delight, kisses involved. Kisses that were full of promises of something more once Peggy was back on her feet and able to move without inflicting pain on herself. Sweet, and sometimes steamy, kisses that had taken Angie a bit by surprise, because she honestly hadn’t expected Peggy to be so good at kissing, let alone kissing girls. If Peggy was the prime example of a Brit, then they were really underestimating them with that whole stiff upper lip nonsense. 

Normally Angie would have headed to her room to change out of her uniform before doing anything else, she didn’t want to get food service gunk all over Howard’s fancy penthouse, but she decided that she was going to help herself to the last slice of pie in the ice box and a bottle of Coke, which she was going to take upstairs with her and enjoy in the bath. She giggled softly to herself as she imagined the look on her Ma’s face if she knew Angie was eating pie in the bathtub, a bathtub that was all hers, she didn’t have to share it with anyone. She could, if she wanted to, even enjoy the luxury of taking a shower. No one in the old neighborhood had showers, they were luxury items no one she knew could afford, so it was still a novelty to Angie, but a shower probably wouldn’t work with the pie. 

As Angie passed through the living room on her way to the kitchen, however, she was stopped short, a soft gasp passing her lips, as she caught sight of the most beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting on the coffee table. Six ruby red roses were nestled into a cluster of purple and blue violets, and the whole arrangement was settled into a purple tinted glass vase. Walking over to the flowers Angie peered at the little white card sticking out of the bright burst of blue and purple, and smiled when she saw her name written on it in Peggy’s loopy handwriting. The card inside the tiny envelope simply read, ‘B 20:00 ~P.’ Angie blinked. Not exactly the little love note she’d been expecting. It had Angie baffled until she remembered that Peggy wrote her dates and times weird, and then it made a little more sense. 20:00 was 8:00 p.m. for people not European or in the military, which Peggy was both. So, B 8p.m., B at 8p.m.,. Bea’s at 8p.m? Angie squealed with excitement. Forgetting about her pie and Coke, Angie headed upstairs to pick out something to wear before jumping in the bath. 

As soon as she walked into her bedroom Angie noticed the soft pink dress box on her bed with it’s pretty pink bow and she squealed in delight once again. Honestly at this point she was actually swooning over the romantic gestures, again something she would never have expected from Peggy. The dress hidden under tissue paper in the box was dark violet purple in a new style seen in swing halls. The hem of the skirt would just barely brush the bottom of her knees, the sleeves would align with the top of her bust, and the v-neck neckline would just hint at the point of the V dipping into her cleavage. Angie blushed a bit as she fought the urge to pick up the beautiful dress and hold it to her body to look at it in the mirror. She was still in her work clothes and didn’t want to risk getting it dirty. 

Rushing into her bathroom Angie filled the tub and began pulling the bobbie pins from her hair as she waited for it to fill. She tried to stay in the giddiness of the moment, to savor the way she was feeling because she was about to go out on date with Peggy Carter! Their first official date, and she was being wooed by one of the most remarkable people she had ever met. But as hard as she tried she couldn’t stave off the nerves for long, she was going on a date, with her best friend, and it would change everything between them. This whole shifting things into a romantic frame of mind would change everything. What if it didn’t work out? Angie didn’t think she could bear losing Peggy’s presence in her life. But, the best things in life were worth taking a risk for, so Angie finished her bath, and set to work on getting ready for her evening out. She was a bit daring with her make up and pinned her hair up in the kind of curls that would let her use a couple of the purple violet flowers from her bouquet as accents. 

Angie was just about to call for a cab when there was a knock on the door. When she pulled the door open Angie’s excited face morphed into one of utter surprise. It wasn’t so much that she was disappointed that it wasn’t Peggy there to pick her up, but more like she was utterly shocked to find Mr. Fancy standing there on the doormat. “Jarvis?” 

“Good evening, Miss. Martinelli.” Jarvis smiles warmly. “I’ve been sent by Miss. Carter to escort you safely to your destination this evening.” 

For several seconds Angie just stood there blinking, mouth moving up and down wordlessly, and then she just shrugs and smiles. Peggy trusted Jarvis, so if Peggy trusted him then she would trust him too. After snatching up her pocketbook she says, “Let's get going then, Jarvis. We wouldn’t want to keep Peg waiting.”

Jarvis smiles. “No, we would not.” 

Jarvis escorts Angie inside and then departs with a promise to come back and pick them up when they’re ready to call an end to the evening. Angie thanks him, her smile grateful and warm. As she makes her way towards the bar she scans the room for Peggy but doesn’t see her. Glancing at her watch she notes it’s not quite eight o’clock so she slides up to the bar to order a drink and wait. 

A low whistle comes from the other side of the bar before Bea says, “Look at you, kitten, who dipped your pretty little ass in sunshine?” 

Angie laughed gleefully. “Turns out my English doll was pinning for me too, Bea.” 

Bea lets out a boisterous bark of laughter. “Told you so, kitten. You young things are all so damn clueless.”

“In my defense, I couldn’t tell if she was actually queer or just, ya know English!” Angie laughed.

“Got yourself a fancy dame did ya?” Bea teases, basking in the joy radiating off the younger woman. Angie nods and she chuckles. When she asks Angie what she’s drinking, the girl asks for something fun and Bea can’t help but smirk. She whips something up and sets in front of Angie with a smirk. 

Angie sips the drink and hums in delight. “Bea! That’s amazin’ what is it?” 

Bea waits until the young woman takes a sip before she answers, “It’s called Between the Sheets, think of it as a good luck charm.” 

Angie chokes as she blushes a bright pink that has Bea cackling good heartedly as she moves on to her next patron. Turning to scan the room as she sips her drink and waits, Angie can feel another bout of nerves hit her. What if Peggy’s late? What if she doesn’t show? What if she’s had second thoughts about starting something like this with Angie? Angie’s starting to panic but then she hears Bea’s voice behind her. 

“Hey kitten,” Bea’s voice is low and husky. “Chestnuts and honeydews.” 

“What?” Angie’s confused. Bea smirks and jerks her head towards the door. Angie looks and she’s left breathless. “Oh.” 

Peggy’s dress is the same shade of blue as the blue violets in the bouquet she’d left for Angie. It had a sweetheart neckline, and the skirt hem brushed the top of her knees, while the bodice hugged close to her waist. Her hair is up in victory curls, and while her make up is tastefully dramatic, she's actually gone for a softer shade of red on her lips. When she walked into the room she could feel all eyes turn towards her, but the only gaze that mattered was the bright blue wide eyed gaze at the bar as it watched her walk across the room. Peggy watched as Angie moved away from the bar to greet her and she couldn’t help but smile. “Angie, darling, you look stunning.” 

“Madre benedetta aiutami,” Angie replies in a breathy whisper, “sei così bella.” 

Peggy actually blushes as she replies, “Non bello come te, amore mio. Mi togli il respiro.” 

Angie bites her lip as she closes the distance between them. Here in this place, this safe haven for girls with a particular way of being, Angie didn’t hesitate in drawing Peggy in to a kiss. When she pulls back from those gorgeous lips Angie smiles so big and so bright she’d put the sun to shame. “You really know how to woo a girl, English.” 

“Not too much?” Peggy replies, a touch of nervous uncertainty in her voice, though her smile is just as magnificent as Angie’s. “I was afraid I’d gone a bit overboard.” 

“It was perfect, Peggy.” Angie reassures her with another kiss. “You’re perfect.” 

“Hardly darling,” Peggy aruges, and then takes a slight step back. She smiles more, if that’s even possible, and holds out her hand. “Miss. Martinelli, would you like to dance?” 

Despite her overwhelming joy Angie hestates. “Are you sure about this, Peggy? I mean, I ain’t exactly the dance partner you’ve been waitin’ on.”

“Oh, Angie, but you are.” Peggy steps close again, raising the hand she had held out to Angie, to now cup Angie’s cheek. “I’ve been waiting a long time for the right partner, Angie, and I do rather believe she’s finally arrived.” 

Looking into Peggy’s eyes Angie could see the certainty in her words, and the hope and love that she herself was feeling. Angie smiles, relaxes, and takes Peggy’s hand into her own. “I would love to dance with you, English.” 

Peggy beams. She kisses Angie hard, and then leds her out onto the dance floor. A new song begins to play. The song’s only been out for a year or so, the singer was new but taking off fast. Angie was absolutely taken by the young man, Frank Sinarta, a blue eyed Italian boy from Hoboken, and had used her tip money to buy his record and sheet music. Peggy was rather taken by the words, listening to them closely as she slid her arm around Angie’s wasit, and drew her close. She thinks about the way Angie covered for her when the SSR came after her, the way Angie made sure she ate and slept, and the way Angie had taken care of her after she’d been hurt. Even now, when the nightmares came, it was Angie who was there to sooth her. Peggy had never thought about needing someone to watch over her, she’d been doing fine on her own after all, but she’d been wrong. She liked having Angie there watching over her, just as much as she liked being there to watch over Angie. While she still did what she did to honor Steve, to carry on what she knew in her heart he would have done, making the world a safer place felt different now that she was saving it for someone she loved, someone she could hold in her arms every night. It wasn’t that taking up Steve’s mantle wasn’t important anymore, it’s just that loving Angie seemed to make everything in her life just a bit more important now. 

As they danced it felt just like it had in Peggy’s dream. Neither was really leading, so there was no need for the other to follow. They simply moved as one, held close to one other, the music guiding them into steps and pace. Right partner, indeed.

They danced, they drank, they laughed, and in between all of that they stole a variety of kisses, some short and sweet, while others longer and full of promises of more. At the end of the evening Peggy calls Jarvis to come pick them up, and then pays their tab at the bar. They bid goodnight to Bea and Rue when Jarvis arrives. Angie’s still a bit flabbergasted that Peggy had been coming to the bookstore for years and they’d never run into each other. Peggy was still surprised at the bookstore hiding a rather nice speakeasy beneath it’s floors, and that it had done so for quite some time. She didn’t know what kind of arrangement Bea had, if any, with the authorities, but she made a silent vow to herself to do her best to keep Bea, Rue, and the bookstore speakeasy as safe as she could. 

On the ride home they sit close but not too close, because even if Jarvis wasn’t going to judge them for their feelings towards one another, he was still British and proper decorum was in order. He asks if they enjoyed their night off and Peggy smiles, “It was lovely, Mr. Jarvis. Thank you again for your driving services tonight.” 

“It was my pleasure, Miss. Carter.” Jarvis replies. “I’m rather pleased to know you do not in fact assemble rifles for relaxation.” 

Peggy groans softly and rolls her eyes, but there’s a soft smile on her lips. Angie however laughs. When he drops them off they wish each other goodnight, and Jarvis comments on how much Ana is looking forward to Sunday. As the two make their way up to the penthouse Angie asks, “What’s happening Sunday?” 

“I may have promised we’d join them for brunch if you’re free.” Peggy blushes and flashes Angie a sheepish smile. 

Angie couldn’t be mad even if she wanted too, not with Peggy smiling at her like that. She smiles back as she asks, “Got any other plans for me this weekend, English?” She’d only been teasing, asking to be playful, but the blush the question caused on Peggy’s cheeks made her raise an eyebrow and smirk as she moved closer to the brunette. “What exactly did you have in mind, Peg?” 

“You’ll have to wait until we’re inside to find out.” Peggy replied as she unlocked their door and pushed it open.

Angie bites her lip as she smiles. As she passes by Peggy to walk inside she grabs Peggy’s hand and pulls her inside with a little yelp that turns into a laugh. Angie wanted to spend the rest of her life hearing that sound. That was a startling but welcome thought. A lifetime with Peggy sounded like something she really really wanted.

Safely alone inside their home behind closed and locked doors the two women suddenly became rather shy. They both wanted to continue their night together, neither wanting it to end, but what came next was far more intimate than dancing. They’re standing in the foyer of the penthouse, Peggy’s hand still in Angie’s, looking into each other eyes with growing anticipation. After several moments they inch slowly closer, until Peggy’s free hand reaches up to caress Angie’s cheek. The back of her fingers then slowly glide along Angie’s jawline to her chin, then she flips her hand again and trails her fingertips down Angie’s neck, then slides her hand along Angie’s throat until it’s at the back of her neck. Their gazes are locked, unblinking, watching as the other’s pupils grow with desire as Peggy pulls Angie in to kiss her. 

They end up in Peggy’s room. She clicks on a lamp so they have light to see as they slowly remove each other’s dresses. The light from the lamp casts a warm glow to flushed skin as hands glide over shoulders and down arms, as fingertips ghost over the edges of lace brassiere cups, as strong calloused hands run over hips before running up a bare back. Even in bare feet Peggy is two inches taller, and while that might not seem like much, it means that when she pulls Angie close, their bodies flush against one another as Peggy kisses her neck just below her ear, Angie fits perfectly into the other woman’s embrace.

Angie is the first one to lose her brassiere. She doesn’t even feel Peggy undo the hooks. She simply feels the sudden cool air against the skin of her breasts, feels the instant reaction of tightening in her nipples. When she opens her eyes it is just in time to see Peggy throw the garment over her shoulder before smiling at Angie in a way that made her stomach flutter and her limbs suddenly feel like they were made of gelatin. Her gelatin like state makes it easier for Peggy to guide her onto the mattress, flat on her back, head pressing into pillows that smell like lavender and sage. Though she knows that Peggy uses lotion every night, Angie can still feel the callouses on Peggy’s palm as her right hand roams over her breasts and stomach, a sensation that makes her shiver pleasantly. 

Peggy pauses, looks up from following the movement of her hand to catch Angie’s eyes. “Alright darling?” 

“I’m more than alright, Peggy.” Angie reassures her. 

“You’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like?” Peggy asks as she hovers over her new lover. Who knew doing one hundred and fifteen one armed push ups would come in quite so handy.

Angie nods. “I can’t imagine not liking anything you do to me, Peg.” 

Peggy blushes a bit as she smiles and then goes back to memorizing every inch of Angie’s body. She lets her hand do most of the work at first, running it over Angie’s breasts, down her stomach, over her hip, down along her thigh. But then she starts following that trail with her mouth, and that’s when she discovers the most delightful sounds coming from Angie as she licks and nips in certain places. 

She had daydreamed, not to mention fantasy dreamed, about Peggy’s chest for far too long to suffer through Peggy wearing a brassiere when she wasn’t, so Angie worked on getting it off while trying not to get too distracted by Peggy’s roaming caresses. She’d just managed to fling the garment away when she felt Peggy’s lips press a kiss at the top of the valley between her own breasts, and after that Angie could do little more than let go and let her body respond without thought. When she felt Peggy’s breasts press into her own, Angie’s leg curled around Peggy’s waist as her arms wrapped around her in a way that were pressing into Peggy’s back on either side of her spine. She wanted to feel Peggy pressed up against her body as close as she could get her. 

Peggy sensed when Angie had had enough of simply being worshiped and needed more, and she was more than happy to oblige. She made her way down Angie’s body, taking her panties with her, and crossed that final line between them. Far more than friends, no longer just flatmates, beyond just being gal pals, they were lovers now and as Peggy watched Angie’s beautiful, blissful face, she wanted them to be lovers, to be together in all the ways that mattered, for a very, very long time to come. She realized that that was a very big thought that came with a lot of complex emotions to have after one date, one night of passion, but bloody hell hadn’t she earned a bit of happiness in this mad world she’d sworn to protect? 

She had slayed the dragons, the trolls, and the ogres, and now the knight was going to spend the rest of the weekend, or at least until they had to get ready for Sunday brunch with the Jarvises, laying claim to and being claimed by her fair lady. And God willing, the brave knight and the fair lady would get happy ever after, even if Peggy had to move heaven and earth to make it happen herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Angie says in google translated Italian: "Blessed Mother help me." "You are so beautiful."
> 
> What Peggy says in google translated Italian: "Not as beautiful as you, my love. You take my breath away."


	8. Interlude I

**2015**

Steve had been on a mission with Natasha that took well over a month to complete, and hadn’t been able to make his Thursday afternoons with Peggy while he was busy. It had become the best part of his week, riding his motorcycle out to the picturesque senior village where Peggy lived, spending the afternoon having tea and whatever sweet snack he’d picked up for her, listening to her tell her stories about meeting and courting the woman she spent her whole life loving. While a small part of him would always grieve for what might have been between him and Peggy, he didn’t harbor any regrets or resentments. He was genuinely happy that she had had a life not only full of adventure but one filled with love. 

Now that the mission was completed, successfully because he and Natasha made an incredible team, Steve finally had time to unwind and get back to trying to sort out this new life of his. The first thing on his list of things he wanted to do while he was on R&R was see Peggy. So despite the fact that it was Sunday and not Thursday, he rode out the senior village and pulled up to the rehabilitation and medical building where Peggy lived. When he signed in at the front desk he was surprised when he was told that Peggy wasn’t in her room but out in the garden, and smiled appreciatively when the nurse escorted him to her. What surprised Steve even more than hearing that Peggy was up and moving about, was that when he reached her, he discovered that Peggy wasn’t alone in the beautifully maintained garden.

Peggy was reclining on a dark wicker sun lounger with thick padding, her legs covered in a light blanket. On the lounger beside her sat a woman close to Peggy in age. While Peggy’s hair was long and still had shadows of her former dark hues in it’s soft gray waves, the other woman’s hair was short, cut just below her earlobe, and strikingly silver. Neither woman was frail looking, in fact the short haired woman looked as if perhaps at one point she could have been a little robust, but her advanced age had weathered down a little of what late middle age had plumped a bit. She was sitting on the edge of the lounge, her feet in their orthopedic shoes, planted firmly on the ground as she faced Peggy. She laughed and for some reason Steve couldn’t help himself and smiled at the sound. 

The woman looks up as she reaches for a glass of something that looks like a pale ice tea in a glass of ice that’s sat on a tray on a wicker end table between herself and Peggy. She spots Steve as he makes his way towards them, a bundle of bright spring flowers in hand, and her eyes go wide. Steve is instantly taken aback by the bright smoky blue eyes that pear at him from behind vibrant purple glass frames. Now that he’s closer and she’s looking right at him he can also see wisps of purple in her silver hair. She smiles at him, he smiles back a little awkwardly. 

“Seventy years and you can still eat him up with a spoon.” He hears her say to Peggy, which gets Peggy to turn her head and look his way. He watches her face light up, her dark eyes glowing like warm honey in the warm late spring sun. He had been down right terrified the first time he’d come to visit Peggy because he wasn’t sure how he would handle seeing her now that she was seventy years older than the last time he’d laid eyes on her. He knew she would be different, she wasn’t the same woman he had left behind, but the moment he had looked into those big brown eyes he knew she was still very much Peggy Carter. 

“Steve!” Peggy greets him, raising her hand out to him. “I’m so glad to see you back safe and sound.” 

“Hi Peg.” Steve beams, and quickens his pace so he can take her offered hand. “I hope I’m not intruding, I know it’s not our normal day, but I wanted to stop by and see you.” 

Joy radiates off Peggy as Steve’s hand takes hers. “You’ve come at a wonderful time, Steve. You can finally meet my Angie.” 

Steve blinks, his sharp blue eyes shifting over to the other woman. 

Angie laughs a boisterous laugh. His eyes are a bit wide and his cheeks are blushing pink with embarrassment. He’s simply adorable and Angie is fond of him already. Which was a relief because to be honest she hadn’t been able to figure out how she felt about him. This was the man after all that would have had a life with her wife if he hadn’t heroically sacrificed himself all those decades ago. “You thought I was dead, didn’t you?” 

Peggy frowns, her dark eyed gaze shifting between them before asking, “Why on earth would he think that? I’ve never spoken of you in the past tense.” 

Steve blushes hard, which only makes Angie laugh harder. “See, look at his face, he thought I was dead.” 

Peggy’s frown deepens. She glares at Steve softly, though she isn’t cross with him, but herself. “Did I never mention she still lives down in our condo in the assisted living area down by the pound?” 

“You didn’t.” Steve’s rubbing the back of his neck and smiling sheepishly for having just assumed the other woman had passed on. “And since I hadn’t met her, I just…” 

“Assumed I was dead.” Angie finished for him. She watches as Steve crouches beside Peggy, still holding her hand in his, but moving it back to her lap so she doesn’t have to hold it up. She smiles for a moment, and then explains. “Peggy’s been up here since she broke her damn hip last fall. Stubborn old bat that she is, slipped on our patio trying to tend to her violets on her own. They won’t let me stay with her up here, I come up after breakfast everyday and stay until some pushy young thing shoos me away. I would have come up to meet you sooner, Captain Rogers, but I figured you’d want some alone time with our best girl, and besides, Thursday afternoons is bingo.”

“She has a slight addiction to bingo.” Peggy teases fondly as she looks over at Angie with such love and devotion. Even after all this time together, Peggy looked at Angie as if she hung the moon and danced among the stars. 

“I’m a ninety year old Italian-American recovering Catholic, of course I have an addiction to bingo.” Angie huffs playfully at her wife. 

Steve blinks and then smiles warmly at the pair as they tease each other. The way they look at each other as they banter back and forth, even a blind man could see just how much they love and adore each other. Looking over at Angie, Steve says, “It’s just Steve, please, and it’s a pleasure to meet you,...”

He’s unsure of what to call her so Angie jumps in with, “Angie’s fine, Steve, no need for formalities among friends.” 

“It’s Carter.” Peggy says firmly. “Mrs. Carter, she is my wife after all, whether the bloody federal government approves or not.”

Steve is offered a chair, which he takes after giving Peggy her flowers, because he has to fetch it from the nearby table himself. He has a bag of jelly candies in his jacket pocket but he isn’t sure he should give them to her in front of Angie since Peggy wasn’t supposed to be eating a lot of sweets. He’ll find a way to slip them to her later. Once he’s settled in his chair in between the two women, ice tea in hand which he’s given by Angie, they all start chatting. Steve and Angie start getting to know one another, and Peggy’s beaming with utter joy at having the two finally meet. 

“Older than both of us and he looks like he could be Christophor’s age.” Angie says with a chuckle and a shake of her head. “Hells bells, he looks like he’s barely older than Darcy.” 

“Christophor and Darcy are two of our grandchildren.” Peggy explains to Steve when he raises his eyebrow at her. 

“Ah.” Steve smiles. “Well, I can’t say I’d recommend my anti-aging secrets to anyone.” 

“The secum or the seveny years on ice?” Angie teases him easily. She can see why Peggy would have been so taken with Steve, he’s sweet, kind, and smart. As they talk, as she watches him with Peggy, she can see him start to relax, as if being in Peggy’s presence has helped him put aside a heavy burden. He must be struggling, Angie thought, being a man out of time the way he was. 

“Either.” Steve laughs. He wants to ask about their children, and their grandchildren. He knows that they have two, a boy and a girl, though he’s unsure of the details. All he knows for sure is that they are listed in Peggy’s files as hers, and that when he looks at their young smiling faces in some of Peggy’s photographs, he can see her in them. It surprised him, how much he’d enjoyed hearing Peggy tell him about meeting and falling in love with Angie. He’d been a little unsure at first, to be honest. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel, hearing about the life she’d lived without him. But the happiness Peggy felt while telling her tales was infectious, and Steve found himself happy and grateful she’d been so well loved. So now he wanted to hear more about their life together. It couldn’t have been easy for them, two women in love pre-Stonewall, or even after. “So, you two raised a family together?”

Peggy beams proudly as she nods. “We have two children.” 

“Edwin and Elizabeth.” Angie informs him of their names with great pride.

“She thought Michael and Margaret sounded cute, so she wanted our children’s first letter to match as well.” Peggy cuts in with an affectionate eye roll. 

“Wondering how two queer women managed to have a family in the 1950s?” Angie asked Steve with a smirk. 

Steve blushes and nods. “Yeah, actually. I know things now are a lot different than they were back then, it couldn’t have been easy.” 

“It was tough at times.” Angie nods. “But we made it work.” She hums softly as she taps a weathered finger against her chin. “I guess we should start with Peg’s beard. Did I use that right? Isn’t that what Darcy called him when we told her this story?” 

Peggy nods. “Yes, I think that’s what she called him.” 

“Right then, Peggy’s beard.” Angie paused to laugh at the look on Steve’s face and then explained, “Beards hide a man’s face, well, in this case, a beard is what we used to hide a person’s queerness.” 

Steve nods that he understands. Peggy smiles and says, “It all started, as so many things had done back then, with Howard Stark getting himself into a spot of trouble and taking his friends down with him.”


	9. Chapter 9

**1950/51**

When Peggy and Howard decided to base their new agency out of Camp Lehigh in New Jersey, Peggy and Angie decided to use it as an excuse to get their own place. It needed to be somewhere where they could both get to work easily, Peggy to Lehigh and Angie to whichever theater her current show was being staged in, but they also needed a place where people wouldn’t ask too many questions about two women their age who were unmarried and living together. They both fell in love with a house on the water in Seneca Falls and with Peggy’s new salary as Director of SHIELD, and Angie’s salary from her current show, they were able to buy it. Going through Howard’s bankers and lawyers helped, given most banks refused to work with single women, but the sting of needing to do it that way faded as soon as the home was truly theirs. It was a bit big for the two of them, four bedrooms and two and half baths, but as soon as they walked into the place it had felt like home. Angie had gushed over the kitchen for days after seeing it, and Peggy had been smitten as soon as she saw the wild violets growing around the bases of the trees closest to the house. 

Of course before they moved in Peggy had overseen some security updates to the house and property with Howard’s help. If Angie was going to continue insisting on loving her, which she was eternally grateful for, she was going to make damn sure her girlfriend was safe as she slept in the bed beside her. Once she was sure it was safe, she and Angie moved in, and when she wasn’t busy setting up SHIELD she was busy making a home with the woman she loved. It still very much felt like a dream to Peggy, having a life with Angie, getting to love her and being loved by her. Even when things were hard, they weathered the storms together because they loved each other. 

“Hey English,” Angie calls out gently as she sets a bowl of roasted potatoes on the patio table along with a salad. “If you still want your steak to moo you might want to pay attention to what you’re doing and not whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours.” 

Peggy blinks at the sound of Angie’s voice. She’s drawn instantly back to the here and now, standing on the deck of their home in front of a barbecue, Nat King Cole crooning from the radio on the kitchen counter just inside the door, and Angie’s inquisitive face staring at her with an amused smile. “I’m not the one who normally burns things on the barbecue, darling.” 

“I grew up in a tenement in Brooklyn, what do I know about cooking outside?” Angie huffed back at her. 

After pulling the steaks from the barbecue and putting the black dome lid back in it’s place to smother the flames, Peggy walks over to join her girlfriend at the table. Angie is pouring what the Americans call lemonade into tall glasses full of ice and as Peggy reaches to set the plate on the table, she can’t help but let her free hand glide over Angie’s hip. They are surrounded by property they own, and with no neighbors around to spy on them, they’re free to touch as intimately as they wish. As they eat they talk about their days, and upcoming plans. Peggy comments on how she can’t wait to watch the autumn settle in around them. After they clean up, and Peggy makes sure the barbecue isn’t going to be an issue, they settle in for the evening. As a housewarming gift Howard had given them a television. Peggy wasn’t sure how she felt about the thing, but Angie loved it, so they settled in on the sofa together to watch Jack Benny before going to bed, though sleep would not happen for many hours after they’d gone to bed. 

It’s some time around three in the morning when the phone starts to ring. Peggy curses whoever is on the other end of the shrill sound dragging her out of a blissful sleep. Disentangling herself from Angie, she hears her love grunt an angry protest and smiles before pressing a kiss to Angle’s temple. “Go back to sleep, darling.” She whispers before getting out of bed and snatching up her dressing gown. She leaves their room, crossing over to the phone in the hallway, and presses it to her ear with an annoyed, “This had better be important.” 

“Peg.” Howard’s voice trembles a bit. 

Peggy is instantly fully awake. “Howard? What’s wrong?” 

“You’re going to be really sore at me, pal.” Howard replies.

Bringing her hand to her face Peggy pinches the bridge of her nose. “What have you done, Howard?” 

“We need your help, Pegs.” Howard says, trying not to rush through his words. “We need you to come to London as soon as you can. It’s Falsworth, Peg. Monty needs your help. I’ll explain everything when you get here. One of my planes will be waiting for you at the airport. Bring Angie, we need her too.” 

That makes Peggy stiffen up. “Howard Anthony Stark what have you…” 

But the line goes dead and she’s left standing there silently fuming. What the bloody blue blazes has that man gotten them into now?! Peggy stands there for a moment longer before setting the receiver back on it’s base and turning on her heel to head back to the bedroom to pack. What on earth could he have gotten into that required her to bring Angie? She wouldn’t put it past him to try and trick her into a holiday, but the tone and timber of his voice told her this was serious. So why would he ask her to bring Angie? He knows full well that she wants to keep Angie as far from their business as possible in order to keep her safe. Not only because of the inherent dangers of the espionage trade, but also because there are rumblings of danger in the government that Peggy didn’t want drawn to them. Howard knew this, they had discussed it. This had to be bad for him to risk her wrath by asking for Angie’s involvement. 

“Peggy?” Angie is sitting up in bed, holding the sheet around her bare breasts as she watches her girlfriend return. 

“It was Howard.” Peggy explains with a sigh. “He’s done something undoubtedly stupid and needs our help.” 

“Our help?” Angie repeats, eyes wide as she looks at Peggy with surprise. 

“He asked me to bring you. There’s a plane waiting, but,” Peggy sits on the edge of the bed and looks into her lover’s eyes as she reaches out to put her hand on Angie’s thigh. “You’ve another month or more on your show Angie, I can’t ask…” 

“Where are we going?” Angie responds as she flicks away the sheet and gets out of bed.

Now Peggy’s the one with wide surprised eyes as she watches Angie move around the room pulling on her undergarments before disappearing into their closet, only to return wearing trousers and carrying a suitcase. Just like that Angie was willing to help, even without knowing what it was she was going to help with. How could Peggy not love this woman? “Darling?” 

“Howard’s a putz.” Angie says as she begins packing. “But he’s family, so if he needs our help, we go help him, and then we spend the rest of our lives reminding him that we helped him.” 

Peggy laughed as she stood and walked over to the dark blonde, pulling her into her arms to hold and kiss her. “I adore you.” 

Angie smiles, “I know. So, where are we going?” 

“London.” Peggy tells her, and then sighs with a bit of disappointment. “Not exactly how I wanted to take you to England.” 

“Hopefully after we pull Howard’s bacon outta the fire we can take a little time and you can show me around.” Angie soothes and she brushes at Peggy’s hair, tucking it behind her ear. 

Peggy smiles. “I would like that.” 

Not knowing exactly what kind of help Howard needed, Peggy leaves Angie to pack their clothes, giving her a quick list of items for herself. Then she works on assembling her work related items into her duffle bag. She also calls Lehigh and speaks with Rose, who she poached from the SSR just before it went under, to let her know what was going on. The Strategic Hazard Intervention, Espionage, and Logistics Directorate, it was a working title, Howard really wanted their anogram to spell shield, was still very much in its early infancy and Peggy didn’t like leaving it without both her and Howard on site. Thankfully she trusted Chester Phillips, and had made sure to put people she trusted and were loyal to her in key positions, such as Rose and her beloved Howling Commandos. Which brought her back to why she was leaving for London with her girlfriend in tow for whatever godforsaken reason of Howard’s. Whatever he’d done it had taken James “Monty” Montgomery Falsworth down with him. Oh were the two of them going to get an ear full from her when this was over!

“Ready English?” Angie calls out from the front hall near the door. 

Peggy sighs softly as she responds, “Yes darling, I’m coming. Did you call your producer?”

“Yeah, I might have played up knowing someone who could work connections in the West End.” Angie smiled. “Howard’s gonna owe me a couple of favors for this.” 

They loaded up Peggy’s car and then drove out to Howard’s private airstrip where his private plane was waiting for them. While this was not Angie’s first time on a plane, just before she and Howard got seriously busy building their agency Peggy had taken Angie on holiday to California, but it would be her first time flying transatlantic to another country. So instead of spending the whole flight fuming at and worrying about Howard, Peggy spent it making sure Angie was alright. Once they were in the air and settled in they both managed to get some sleep, Angie with her head on Peggy’s shoulder, and Peggy’s head resting atop Angie’s. 

When they landed in London Jarvis was there to greet them. “Miss. Carter. Miss. Martinelli.” 

“Mr. Jarvis.” Peggy replies as she and Angie duck under the large umbrella he’s holding up for them. “What’s he gotten himself into this time, Mr. Jarvis?” 

“It’s best if Mr. Stark tells you himself.” Jarvis replies as he escorts them to the waiting car which is being loaded with their luggage. 

Peggy tries very hard to read Jarvis, to gage some understanding of how bad things are, but Jarvis has always been good at hiding Howard’s secrets. What she was picking up on was his concern, and uneasiness. Jarvis takes them to Howard’s London townhouse where Howard is pacing the floor with a drink in hand. He looks tired, disheveled, and he’s sporting a rather impressive black eye. 

“Alright Howard,” Peggy says after a moment of watching him pace. “I’m here, now start explaining to me why.” 

“Peg! Ang!” Howard breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank heavens, now we can get Monty out of jail.” 

Peggy blinks. “Falsworth’s in jail?” She asks in surprise before shifting her tone to a more demanding one. Walking over to Howard she grabs his chin in her firm grip and makes him face her as she looks into his eyes. “What for? And how did this happen?”

Howard swallows hard, causing his adam’s apple to bob as he steps back from Peggy. As she stares him down he begins to blush, deeply. 

Peggy crosses her arms over her chest as she glares at her friend. “Howard.” 

“B..bu..bug…” Howard stammers like a school boy facing his switch wielding headmaster. He clears his throat and forces himself to say it. “Buggery.” 

“What!?” Peggy exclaims, her dark eyes wide, her left hand going to her chest as if trying to catch the breath she’d just gasped out. Since the end of the war there had been an upsurge in arrests under England’s sodomy laws in an attempt to purge the upper echelons of power and society. “Howard! How did this happen!?” 

“It’ll be alright now that you’re here, Peg.” Howard rushed in before Peggy exploded. “I have a plan! I told the inspectors that they had it all wrong, that it was just a misunderstanding, that we were out on the town for a stag night.” 

“A stag night?” Peggy repeats, her thoughts whirling around faster than she can grab hold of one to focus on. 

“Yeah, ya know, a bachelor party.” Howard explained as if Peggy wouldn't know her own country’s slang.

Peggy raised both hands to rubs at her temples as she asked, “And just who are you marrying, Howard?” 

“Not me, Monty.” Howard chewed his lip, his dark eyed gaze flicking between Peggy and Angie who’d stepped up to Peggy to put a comforting hand on the small of her back. “We’re telling the police that Monty is getting married, and that what happened, it was just piss drunk mates out for his last hurrah. The inspectors are waiting on his fiance to come down and verify the story before they officially press charges.” 

“Howard.” Peggy growls before pinning him with her gaze once again. “And just who is Monty supposed to be engaged too?” 

Howard paled as he took several steps back, bumping into Jarvis who’d been standing behind him. He swallowed again, and his voice squeaked. “You.” 

“HOWARD!” Peggy bellowed. 

Howard yelped as he jumped back, but there was nowhere for him to go with Jarvis behind him. Holding his hands up defensively he rushed out an explanation. “I didn’t know what else to do, Peggy! It’s my fault he’s in this mess! I had to do something and this is the first thing that came to mind! You don’t actually have to marry him, just pretend to be engaged until we can get him out of this!”

Peggy advanced on him, ready to strike him, to lay into him verbally, but she suddenly stopped in her tracks. Her eyes once again went wide as Howard’s words crashed into her thoughts. “Howard.” She gasped, her gaze fixed on him for a moment before shifting to Jarvis, and then back to Howard. “That’s why,” She said softly, again her gaze shifting back and forth. “That’s why neither one of you batted an eye at Angie and I.”

“Now, don’t get me wrong, Peg.” Howard said as he licks his lips. “Ninety percent of the time I am perfectly happy chasing skirts.” He shrugs and licks his lips again. “But sometimes, every once in a while, I chase coat tails too.” 

“I need to sit down.” Peggy muttered as she made her way over to the sofa, the warmth of her love’s hand still on the small of the back. 

“Jarvis.” Howard says simply. 

“Yes, bourbon or…” Jarvis replies. 

“Whiskey, man, strong whiskey.” Howard replies. 

Since Peggy seemed lost in her thoughts and feelings Angie was the one who asked, “If you got pinched together, how are you not in a jail cell?” 

“Money and defense contracts.” Howard answers honestly. “Plus I'm a foreigner, I’m not their target.” 

“One of these days Howard,” Peggy looks up at him with fire in her eyes as she accepts the drink Jarvis hands her. “I am going to bloody throttle you.”

“They’re expecting you tomorrow afternoon.” Howard tells her, ignoring her threat. “You were the logical choice, Peg. You’ve known each other since the war, you’re pals, you agreed to marry, no big deal. No one’s expecting a Hollywood romance, you’re both English for pete’s sake.” 

“I haven’t agreed to this, Howard.” Peggy growls at him. “I’m not agreeing to anything until I’ve had time to think and talk it through with Angie.” 

“Well, since you’re already set on giving me a beating I might as well throw this out there.” Howard says daringly. “The whispers about that McCarthy fella are getting louder, Peg. You being married on paper could help keep them from sniffing around SHIELD too much.” 

“You not getting our agents arrested for sodomy will also keep them from poking into our business, Howard.” Peggy shoots back icely as she glares at him, her anger rising once again. “Look me in the eye Howard and tell me you didn’t set this up to make me look like less of a threat to your friends in Washington.” 

Howard looked hurt that she would even think that he would do something like that. “I would never do that, Peggy.” He told her, looking her in the eye as he pointed to his own black eye. “The cops ain’t exactly nice to fellas they think are a nance. I wouldn’t use my friends like that.” He was hurt and it showed. “I thought you thought better of me.” 

“Oh Howard.” Peggy sighs as she pinches the bridge of her nose. Her head was throbbing, and she didn’t see it easing up any time soon. “If I didn’t think well of you, if I didn’t consider you a brother, I wouldn’t bloody be here now would I?” 

“I’m sorry, Peg.” Howard replies, dropping his head. 

There was a bit of an awkward pause before Peggy replied, “I know you are, Howard. You’re always sorry, and I always forgive you after I’ve cleaned up the mess you’ve made. One of these days my boy, Edwin and I are going to get rather tired of making things better after you’ve mucked it all up.” She sighs heavily this time and then adds, “Now if you’ll excuse us, Angie and I need…” 

“Um, just, well, one more thing, Peg.” Howard cuts in.

“Oh dear heavens I’m going to murder him.” Peggy grunts. “What is it now, Howard?” 

“The reason I asked you to bring, Angie.” Howard is once again nervously fidgeting, chewing his lip and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I was starting to wonder.” Angie said, finally speaking up. Until that moment she’d been focusing on keeping Peggy from lashing out at Howard, and keeping herself from telling him off for putting Peggy through this hairbrained scheme. “I have a feeling I ain’t just here to keep Peggy from strangling you and dumping your body in the Thames.” 

Howard hesates, knowing that this would be the most dangerous part of his plan to mention. If Peggy were truly going to hurt him, it would be over this. “I need to be seen with a steady girl for a while, and Angie’s perfect.” 

Peggy shoots to her feet as she bellows. “Absolutely not! Howard! How dare you even consider using Angie that way! You’ll ruin her reputation before she even has a chance to build one!” 

“Not if we do this right, Peg.” Howard replies quickly. “She’ll come across as the sweet wholesome gal who tamed Howard Stark, only to get her heartbroken when it ends. She’ll come out of it as America’s sweetheart, and I’ll be an even bigger cad than I already am.” 

“Peggy, honey, unclench before you hurt yourself.” Angie says gently as she holds tightly to Peggy’s upper arm. She can feel Peggy trembling, can feel the way every muscle in the other woman’s body has tensed up and is ready to strike out. She can almost hear Peggy’s teeth creaking under the pressure of her clenched jaw. “Love, please, take a deep breath.” 

“I would never do anything to hurt Angie, Peg.” Howard tells her, his voice pleading with her. “I know I keep making a mess of things in my life, and I keep dragging you into it, and I really don’t mean to keep hurting you by doing that.” 

Peggy stands there fuming for a moment longer before saying, “I hope to God this is a turning point for you, Howard. It’s bloody well time you grow up. Now get out before I do or say something I’ll regret.” 

Howard nods and bravely gives Peggy a quick hug before leaving. Jarvis asks if Peggy or Angie need anything and when they answer no, he follows Howard out. For several long moments Peggy and Angie just stand there in the parlor of Howard’s London home, Peggy tense and Angie doing her best to silently calm her. It’s not until they’ve both had a second glass of whiskey that they start to talk. 

“What are you going to do, Peggy?” Angie asks gently, her hand resting on her lover’s thigh. 

Peggy shakes her head and sighs. “I’ve no idea, darling.” 

“You can’t just let your friend go to prison, Peggy.” Angie says after a moment of thought. “He didn’t do anything wrong, other than bein’ like us.” 

“And having rotten taste in lovers.” Peggy grumbled. She couldn’t help but wonder if this thing between Howard and Falsworth was new, a one time thing, or if it had happened before, back during the war perhaps? She knew them both well enough to know it wasn’t truly a romantic relationship, it was sexural, but perhaps there was a bit of companionship involved. Whether it was just scratching an itch or something more really didn’t matter at this point, what mattered was not letting it ruin her friends’ lives, and not allowing this little escapade do harm to SHIELD. “Would you be alright with me agreeing to this, Angie?” 

Angie smiles as she lifts her hand to caress Peggy’s cheek. “You’d be playing a role, English, nothing more, I know that. Playing pretend for the outside world for a little bit ain’t gonna change what’s between us.”

“If Howard is right, if this blowhard idiot in D.C. becomes a real threat, it might need to last longer than a little bit.” Peggy admits sourlily. 

“If it’s going to keep you safe, Peg, then I’m definitely all for it.” Angie replies. “No matter how long it takes.”

They spend the rest of the evening talking about it, and then when Peggy’s had enough she announces that she’s taking Angie out to see London. Over breakfast the next morning they lay some ground rules as far as Howard and Angie are concerned. He is to treat her with the utmost respect, he is allowed to hold her hand, she can hold onto his arm, but if Howard tries more than a kiss on the cheek Peggy will castrate him. She actually uses the word eunuch a lot, to the point where Angie’s a little worried about how pale Howard’s turned. And then that afternoon Peggy marches into the police station wearing a tasteful, and expensive because Howard paid for it, diamond engagement ring, which she informed him she would be keeping. Stepping up to the desk Peggy looks the desk sergeant in the eye and announces, “I’m Margaret Carter, I’m here to speak to someone about my fiance, James Montgomery Falsworth.”


	10. Chapter 10

It normally hangs in their closet at home in a protective bag at the end of the rod on Peggy’s side of the space. Angie has seen hints of it, that particular shade of green that is only used by the army, the tip of a gold wing on a lapel, but she’s never seen it first hand. Nor has she ever seen Peggy actually wear it outside of old photographs. Angie had always thought Peggy looked so dashing in those war time photos, but they really didn’t do her justice. The reality of seeing Peggy Carter in her army uniform, the tie perfectly knotted at the collar of the starched white shirt, the way the belt cinched the jacket at her waist, the way the skirt hugged at her thighs, drawing Angie’s eyes down to her legs, was so much better than anything in a picture. Which is why, with her focus completely on Peggy who stood in front of a full length mirror adjusting the medals on her chest, Angie actually walked into the doorframe with a loud thud and soft yelp.

“Darling,” Peggy gaps when she sees Angie walk face first into the doorframe. She hears Angie swear as her hand comes up to her nose to rub it, and Peggy resists the urge to chuckle. “Are you alright?” 

Lowering her hand to see if there’s blood Angie is relieved when she doesn’t see any. She wiggles her nose, making sure it’s not broken, and then looks up at Peggy with a blush. “I’m fine, stupid wall got in my way.” 

Peggy bites her bright red lip to keep from laughing as she walks over to examine her lover’s nose for herself. “Jumped out of nowhere did it?” 

“Yeap.” Angie pouts at the gentle teasing. 

“I shall have Howard knock it down for it’s insolence.” Peggy smirks before carefully kissing the tip of Angie’s nose before placing a soft kiss on her lips as well. 

Angie can’t help but smile. When Peggy steps back from her she lets her gaze once again take the woman in, marveling at how beautiful she is even in something as simple as an army uniform. “Given the things we get up to in private, shouldn’t neither of us be wearin’ white, but army green?” 

Peggy really hated when Howard was right about things. While convincing the inspectors that she and Falsworth were engaged had been enough to get him released, it was not going to be enough to keep him safe from possible persecution if he ever went back to England unmarried. To make matters worse, when they returned stateside the front pages of the newspapers were all talking about Senator Joseph McCarthy’s hunt for communists. While Peggy was a naturalized citizen of the United States now, she was still foreign born and held her British citizenship. If she were a man this wouldn’t be an issue, but she was a woman in a powerful position as the Director of an international intelligence agency. Even Chester was worried she might be scrutinized by men looking to relieve a woman of such a burden, and McCarthy’s red hunt would give them an excuse to do it. So Peggy had been left with little choice. 

“I’m not about to wear a wedding dress to this bloody farce.” Peggy huffs indignantly. “Marrying Monty is a duty, as his friend, and for SHIELD, nothing more.”

“You ain’t gotta go through with this, English.” Angie says as she takes Peggy’s hands into her own. “Not if you really don’t want to.” 

“What I want and what I must do hardly ever coincide, my darling.” Peggy replies. She pulls their joined hands up to her chest and holds them against herself. “What I want is a world where you and I could be married, a world where men like McCarthy don’t exist so there would be no need to protect you, to protect myself, from their closed mindedness and privilege.” 

There was the biggest, the dopiest smiled on Angie’s lips as she said, “You’d want to marry me?” 

“Of course I would, Angie.” Peggy lets go of their hands so she can reach out to caress Angie’s cheek. “I love you, and I want nothing more than to spend my life with you.” 

Peggy pulls her into a kiss and Angie melts. “I love you too, Peggy.” 

Jarvis knocks on the door soon after to tell them the judge has arrived. They were at Howard’s palatial Cape Cod estate where a handful of guests would witness Peggy and Monty exchange vows and a judge sign a marriage certificate that was nothing more than a paper shield against a world who saw them both as abnormal, damaged, lesser, and unworthy of basic human respect. 

“Coming darling?” Peggy asks when she notices that Angie isn’t following her out of the room. 

“Of course I am, Peg, I’m the maid of honor after all.” Angie does her best to smile supportively. While she understands the reasons why this has to happen, and she thought Peggy strong and brave for doing it, it still stung a little to see the woman she loved about to marry someone else. “I just need a sec.” She tilts her head towards the bathroom. “I’ll be right down.” 

Peggy nods and then leaves the room. Angie waits for a moment and then goes over to where her makeup case is and opens it. Down in the bottom, hidden from sight, she pulls something out and slips it into the little pocket in the waistband of her skirt under the wide belt she was wearing. Then she made her way downstairs where the simple ceremony would take place followed by a small reception complete with a single tier white wedding cake and glasses of champagne.

When it was all said and done, the paperwork signed, the refreshments eaten and the alcohol drunk, Peggy found herself alone with Angie. Her new husband was drinking and smoking cigars with Howard and Dum Dum in the house somewhere, while she and Angie walked along Howard’s private beach. They were both barefoot in the sand. Peggy had shed her jacket and tie and untucked her blouse from her skirt. Angie in her powder blue floral dress with the wide belt around her waist. The moon was full, giving them plenty of light as they walked hand in hand. 

Lifting up their entwined hands Angie looked at the simple, plain, thin gold band now around the ring finger of Peggy’s left hand. “How does it feel?” 

“False.” Peggy frowns, glaring at the band with annoyance. It felt like she had sold out her ideals to appease a world she would always be considered a second class citizen in. While she understood why this had to happen in a logical strategic way, it didn’t ease the way it made her feel in her heart and soul. 

Angie bit her lip as she stopped them from walking. Then she stepped in front of Peggy, their hands still clasped firmly together. “Maybe,” She says, her voice soft and miraculously free of the nerves that had launched a ticker tape parade of butterflies in her stomach. “Maybe,” She repeats as she looks into Peggy’s doe eyes. “It would feel like less of a burden if you balanced it out with something real.” 

Peggy watches with curious eyes, her heart rate picking up, her breathing slowing, as Angie pulls a tiny velvet sashay from inside her belt. She blinks once, not wanting to miss a single moment of what Angie is doing, and then watches as Angie upturns the sashay. Something glints in the moonlight and Peggy blinks once again to adjust her vision. In the palm of Angie’s hand are two silver bands with a woven knot design and deep amethyst and diamond chips. Peggy gasps softly, her gaze lingering on the rings for a moment more before looking up to catch Angie’s eyes. “Angie.” 

“I got these made months ago.” Angie admits with a warm but sheepish smile. “I kind of had this idea that after we got settled in the house that I would ask you if you maybe wanted to do something like, I don’t know, I hadn’t worked out just what yet really. But then this morning you said you’d marry me if we could, and that was it, that’s exactly what I wanted to ask you about.” Angie paused to gage Peggy’s reaction and saw tears gathering in her eyes, those rich brown eyes that sometimes had honey in them in the sunlight, sparkled with hints of gold in the moonlight. “So, Peggy, what do you say? You and me, right here, right now, in front of each other and God? I know it ain’t nothing legal or anything but…” 

The rest of Angie’s sentence was cut off by the kiss Peggy pulled her into. When they parted, Peggy kept her hands on either said Angie’s face and pressed their foreheads together as she breathed out, “I would very much like to promise myself to you right here, right now, in front of the stars and heavens, Angie.” 

Angie beamed as she kissed Peggy again and then held out one of the rings. “You hold onto this one, it’s mine.” 

“Alright.” Peggy replies happily as she lets Angie guide them into this since she’d clearly through it out even though she hadn’t realized what she had wanted until Peggy had in a way given her permission to put the proper name to it. 

It takes Angie a moment to get her thoughts and emotions in order enough to start. With Peggy’s hands clasps firmly in her own Angie looks into Peggy’s eyes and smiles. “I knew you were something special the moment you walked into the dinner, Peg. And it wasn’t just that you were gorgeous, and you had those legs, it was more than that. The more time we spent together, the closer we became as friends, the more I could see it. I felt really lucky, gettin’ to be your friend. It’s no wonder it was so easy to fall in love with you, not that I knew that’s what was happenin’, not until the night you came into the dinner after that agent fella you worked with was killed on the job. Even then I knew you weren’t a girl who did vulnerable often, but that’s what you were that night, and of all the places you could have gone to, all the people you could have gone to, you came to me. That’s when I knew I was done for, that’s when I knew I’d fallen in love with you Peggy Carter, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.” Angie smiled, and when Peggy let go of her hand so she could caress away a tear from her cheek, Angie leaned into it. “I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to actually love you, Peg, to tell you and show you and be with you like that, but here are.” 

“Indeed my darling, here we are.” Peggy replies as she caresses away another tear. 

“So, now, with that said,” Angie raises Peggy’s right hand and slides on the silver band. “I Anagla Sofia take you Margaret Elizabeth to be my wife, and I promise here in front of God himself, to be at your side through thick and thin, the good and the bad, no matter what life throws at us, we handle it together.” 

There were so many things that Peggy wanted to say to Angie, and it took a moment for her to organize her thoughts and feelings enough to articulate just a faction of it all. Wrapping her hands around Angie’s she brings them up to her chest to press against her heart. “Ever since the start of the war I’ve felt as if my life has been lived under perpetual gray skies and storm clouds. There have been a handful of partly cloudy, even sunny days, but far more thunderous and dark days over the years. Until you.” Peggy admits with a smile. “You brought the sun and clear blue skies back into my life, Angie. And now when those thunderous dark days happen I can weather them so much better because I know the sun will return. You’ve given me hope again, Angie. Hope, warmth, and love. So,” Letting go of Angie’s hands Peggy slips the silver ring on the ring finger of Angie’s right hand. “I Margaret Elizabeth take you Angela Sofia as my wife here in the sight of God and I promise that no matter what the future may hold, we’ll weather it all together.” 

Angie half laughs and half sobs in pure joy as she pulls Peggy into a kiss. It’s long and full of passion and promise, and when they pull apart Angie teases, “You just used a weather metaphor to tell me how much you love me, English, could you have been more English than that?” 

Peggy laughs and pulls Angie in for another kiss. This remarkable woman had just taken one of the most frustrating and madding days of her life, and turned it into the most joyous and beautiful days of her life. Though technically it was after midnight so the days weren’t one in the same, and for that Peggy was also grateful. 

They retreat to a cabana on the beach because they wanted to watch the sunrise while wrapped in each other's arms, but before Peggy allows things to turn more intimately physical, she takes off the gold wedding band. She will not make love to Angie wearing that ring, not ever. With that out of the way Peggy was more than willing and happy to let Angie start undoing the buttons on her crisp white shirt. Once the shirt is open and she feels Angie’s hands on her skin, Peggy closes her eyes and bites the corner of her lip. She can detect the solidity of Angie’s new ring as her hands glide over her stomach, over her ribs, up her back, and it sends a wave of warmth through Peggy that makes her sigh happily. When she feels Angie’s lips pressing against her neck, Peggy reaches behind the blonde to unzip her dress before slipping her fingers under the straps and slowly easing the material over Angie’s shoulders until the dress falls to the floor to pool around Angie’s feet.

The cabana was a large tent-like structure with white wood beams and thick weather proof fabric walls in blue and white strips. A large electric light hung down from the center, but there were also plenty of small lamps, a few of which Angie had switched on when then came inside while Peggy had secured the door for privacy until the sunrise. The chase lounge was as big as a double bed and the two had no problems finding space as they settled atop it once they’d shed the remainder of their clothes. Whenever their right hands weren’t busy caressing skin, or stroking coarse hairs, or plunging into wet and warm places, they were interlocked together, tightly gripping and holding onto each other almost painfully. Peggy had discovered when they first started being intimate that she rather liked leaving possessive little bite marks on Angie’s beautiful skin in places that only the two of them would be aware of. Each time Peggy felt the pinch of their rings being pressed together when their hands were clasped so tightly their knuckles turned white, she couldn’t help but give into the urge to leave another little mark.

“Careful there, English.” Angie moans softly as her back arches upward into Peggy’s touch. “You leave any more little marks and I’m going to look like I have some kinda pox.” 

Peggy eases off the bites, deciding instead to put her mouth to much better use. The pair let go of their clasped hands so Peggy can use both hands to aid her in her activities between Angie’s legs, which leaves Angie’s hands free to sink into chestnut brown locks. Peggy, as it turns out, likes to have her hair pulled, she’s also pretty keen on the feeling of Angie’s nails raking across her skin hard enough to leave red marks. Now that they’ve promised each other a lifetime, the excitement over what else they might discover about one another fueled them well into the first hints of dawn. 

Angie pouted and whimpered when Peggy left her side to open the cabana’s door flaps so they could watch the sunrise and it made Peggy chuckle. When she returned to what had essentially become their honeymoon bed she slipped in behind Angie and pulled her flush against her naked body, wrapping her arms around the slightly smaller woman, and nuzzling into the warmth of the junction between her shoulder and neck where she couldn’t help but take a deep breath and smile. 

“Better now, my darling?” Peggy asks softly. 

“Yes.” Angie snuggles into Peggy’s embrace and sighs.

“That didn't sound like a contented sigh, love.” Peggy presses a kiss to Angie’s temple after moving her sweat damp hair out of the way. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing Peggy, really, it’s silly.” Angie is quick to reassure. 

Peggy tightens her hold as she rubs the tip of her nose just behind Angie’s earlobe. “Tell me, please?” 

Angie sighs again. While they both enjoyed cuddling, Peggy was a bit of a nuzzler, and Angie found it very hard to deny her anything when she was being all cute like this. “It’s just that, well, I kinda don’t want the sun to come up. I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to go back to the reality of what’s waiting for us in the daylight.” 

“If I could freeze time and keep us in this moment I would.” Peggy replies. “But the ability to manipulate time simply doesn’t exist I’m afraid.” 

Despite their wishes the sun does rise, chasing away the dull grays of early dawn with blasts of vibrant reds and oranges as the sun’s reflection on the ocean stretches out towards them like a brilliant beam of light. When it became impossible to linger any further they dressed and made their way back up to the house where they showered and caught an early morning nap before joining everyone for brunch. The dynamics of the group don’t change, everyone still there knows full well that the marriage between Peggy and Monty was one of convenience and nothing more. It’s a rather peacefully relaxed day until Peggy gets her hands on the evening paper. 

“Howard!” Peggy’s voice bellows through the house. 

“What did you do?” Angie asks the man currently mixing pre-dinner drinks. 

Howard pales. “Nothing that I’m aware of.” 

Peggy storms into the room waving the folded newspaper around. “Howard! What is this?!”

Howard blinks as he looks at a photograph of Peggy and Monty in their uniforms standing side by side behind a single tier white wedding cake. “It’s a wedding announcement, Peg.”

Peggy growls at him as she starts hitting him with the newspaper. “I didn’t want it announced, Howard! I didn’t even tell my parents!” She whacked him with the paper until Angie took it away from her, and then she warned, “If this gets back to my parents Howard I swear to god I will thrash you with more than just a bloody newspaper!” 

“We had to make it look real, Peg!” Howard replies. 

She kicks his shin with a huff and then storms off with Angie on her heel. 

Turning to look at the others in the room Howard pouts. “Thanks for the help you guys.” 

“I ain’t gettin’ in her line of sight when she’s as mad as riled up hornet's nest.” Dum Dum shrugs, and the others all agree. 

“You’d better hope that doesn’t come back to bite you, old chum.” Monty teases. “Though I suspect it would be rather amusing to watch her thrash you like a school boy.” 

Howard pouts and then blushes. Dum Dum burst into laughter. Monty gets a devilish gleam in his eyes. “Now now dear fellow, do stop having inappropriate thoughts about my wife.” 

That makes Howard snort. “Someone has to, it’s not like it would ever cross your mind.” 

“I’m sure our dear Angie has those kinds of thoughts covered.” Monty teases. 

“And what kinda thoughts would that be?” Angie asks as she stands in the doorway with her arms across over her chest as she glares at the men. They all pale and muttered non sense and she smirks. “That’s what I thought.”


	11. Chapter 11

The morning after the letter came Peggy didn’t go straight to her office like she normally did. No she stormed into Howard’s lab and thrashed him with her purse strap for two whole minutes before she managed to reign herself in. Despite Howard’s reassurance that he had only published a wedding announcement in the New York and D.C. papers, her parents still managed to hear about her marriage to Monty. Her mother’s letter had asked Peggy to ring home, and when she did she could hear her mother's relief mixed with her disappointment. Relief that Peggy had finally married, and was starting to settle down. Disappointment that she hadn’t mentioned the engagement and had eloped without her family present. So now, not only was Peggy in a fabricated marriage, she felt guilty over not inviting her parents to bear witness to her distorted wedding.

After she stopped hitting him Peggy sank onto one of the stools in the room and glared at him. “My parents want to meet my husband, Howard.” 

Howard was pouting and rubbing at the various places Peggy had hit him. She had honest to god thrashed him with her purse strap and he was sulking like a chastised child. “Yeah, well they probably should. If people go poking around, your parents should be able to vouch for you.”

“I should have let them hang you for treason.” Peggy huffs at him, arms crossed over her chest, a scowl firmly on her lips. 

“Aww, Pegs, you don’t mean that.” Howard pouted more, only this time he threw in his best puppy dog eyes. “Ok, pal, here’s what we’ll do. You’ll put it off for as long as you can, and then when that stops working, we will all go together. You and Monty spend a few days with your folks, and then I’ll bring Angie over. I’ll get wrapped up in my work, make sure I’m too busy to spend any time with Angie, you’ll invite her down to stay with you. We’ll make sure Monty gets called away, then you two can have a few days on your own.” 

Peggy continued to glare at him for a moment and then relented under those damn puppy dog eyes. “I have promised Angie a proper tour of London.”

“This doesn’t have to be forever, Peg.” Howard reassures her as he marshals up his bravery and dares to put his hand on her shoulder. “These witch hunt trials in D.C. can’t last forever.” 

Peggy managed to hold her mother off for several months before Amanda Carter abandoned her written pleas and chastiments in letter form for international long distance phone calls. She knows her parents can’t afford that so Peggy quickly promises to make plans, and swears she’ll ring her mother in a week with the details. The weekend before Peggy is due to leave, she and Angie spend it together alone in their home with orders from Peggy to the outside world that she is to be left the hell alone. Until now she really hadn’t had to do much as far as faking her marriage was concerned. Monty was on assignment overseas, and when he was in town, they went out to dinner or attended one of Howard’s parties, and he slept in the spare bedroom. Peggy really wasn’t looking forward to having to actually act like a proper married couple, and in front of her parents no less. Angie did her best to reassure Peggy that it would all turn out alright and they’d get through it, but Peggy was still dreading this whole experience. 

“It’s what happens after we get through it that bothers me, Angie.” Peggy says softly, her head resting against Angie’s bare stomach as her love plays with her hair. “My Mum is going to be crushed when I become a divorcee.”

“She loves you, Peg.” Angie replies. “I’m sure what she wants most for you is happiness.” 

“The problem love, is that she thinks happiness is tied to the security of marriage.” Peggy sighs. “She can’t see having a content life without a husband to take care of me and children to raise.” 

Angie shifted from playing with Peggy’s hair to trailing her fingertips over the shell of Peggy’s ear, along her jawline, down the bridge of her nose as if she were memorizing the contours of Peggy’s face. “You can’t blame her for wanting grandchildren, English.” 

Peggy huffs. “Well, unless Howard can invent a way for it to happen that doesn’t require either of us having sex with a man, than she’ll just have to relay on Michael.” 

“Wouldn’t that just be somethin’.” Angie chuckled. “Little Martinelli-Carters running around.” 

Jarvis picked Peggy up to take her to the airport ridiculously early, which made Peggy just a bit more grumpy over the whole damn thing. She would be flying on her own and meeting Monty at the airport in London. He’d been on a mission with the Howlies when she informed him of the trip to meet her parents, and after finishing that he’d spent some downtime in the Greek isles as he waited on her. As much as she was dreading putting on a show for her parents as far as her marriage was concerned, Peggy was looking forward to Angie meeting them. She had written and spoken of Angie often in her communications with her mother, and Peggy was hoping that her parents would give Angie just as warm a welcome as she had gotten from Angie’s family. 

Shortly after getting together Angie had taken Peggy home with her for a Martinelli Sunday family dinner. She’d been nervous as hell, unsure of how Angie’s family would react to her. Angie had tried reassuring her, “They’ve known I was a little off since I was little, Peg. We just don’t talk about what that means. I’ve told Ma about you, she knows you’re special to me, so once she’s figured out you ain’t gonna hurt me, she’ll love you.” And sure enough, once Peggy had passed muster with the Martinellis she’d been welcomed warmly. During one of those family dinners Angie’s Nonna Sofia, her mother’s mother, had caught Peggy watching Angie and Gianna in the kitchen and had asked her when she’d last seen her own mother. “Not since I left England shortly after the war. We write every week, and I call often, but...”

“Ti manca tua madre.” Sofia said as she patted Peggy’s arm. 

Peggy had nodded with a soft sight. “Molto, e anche mio padre.”

Sofia had smiled and once again patted her arm. “Adesso sei una famiglia, confortati, bambina.”

She did miss her parents terribly. Peggy had wished more than anything that she could have been there in person to tell them about Michael, but because they were unaware of the nature of her work, she couldn’t. She had taken some comfort in knowing that Chester Phillips had taken it upon himself to inform them in person that Michael had been found in a P.O.W. camp and was currently undergoing treatment at a military hospital. He kindly left out the fact that Michael was serving time for war crimes, but he did make sure that Michael could communicate with them easily through letters and monthly phone calls.

Monty was waiting when she disembarked. They smiled at each other as Peggy approached and double cheek kissed in greeting. “Welcome home, darling.” 

Peggy crinkled her nose and hummed disapprovingly. “Don’t call me that, Monty. I don’t mind terms of endearment, but not that one, and not love.” 

“My apologies, dear.” Monty replies as he takes Peggy bags. “I will endeavor to be more mindful of not encroaching on things meaningful for you and your true one and only.”

“Thank you, my friend.” Peggy gives him a warm smile of thanks for his understanding. 

“I am the one who owes you thanks, Peg.” Monty replies as they head for his waiting car. “The only reason I am allowed back into our beloved Britain without fear of ending up in a prison cell is because of your sacrifice.” 

They head north of London to Hampstead, chatting and getting their stories straight as Monty drove. Despite the reason for their visit, Peggy had to admit it felt good to be home. The Carters owned one of the few remaining private plots of land on the Heath, which meant their home was surrounded by lots of trees and fields and ponds where Peggy had spent countless hours playing as a child, getting utterly lost in her fanciful adventures. As they passed through the carriage gate in the stone wall surrounding the house, Peggy pressed a hand to her nervous stomach. Oh how she wished Angie were there to take her hand and hold it tightly in her own. 

Amanda Carter must have been watching the road because she was waiting on the drive as the car pulled up and came to a stop. As soon as Peggy laid eyes on her mother she felt as if she were a little girl again, and wasted no time at all exiting the car and rushing into her mother’s open arms. Her mother smelled of primrose and vanilla, her arms felt strong and warm around her shoulders, and Peggy sighed softly. “Mum.” 

“Oh my girl,” Amanda replies, tightening her hold. “Welcome home, love.” 

Her father, Harrison, is waiting in the doorway and is Peggy’s next stop. His hug doesn’t linger as long as her mother’s but it lingers longer than normal. Peggy watches as her parents greet Monty, her mother happily so but her father looks at him as if he would not due, not at all. She smiles. Amanda politely orders her husband to help Monty with the bags while escorting Peggy into the house. It hadn’t even occurred to Peggy that she and Monty would be sharing a room, not until her mother tells her father to show Monty up to Peggy’s old room. She felt a bit foolish at not having realized that. Her parents thought their marriage was real, so therefore they would be sharing a bed. One of them would just have to sleep on the floor. 

Over dinner that evening Peggy managed to conceal her surprise when, during her mother’s interrogation of her ‘husband’, she found out that Monty came from a minor noble family. His mother, Jane Montgomery, had been the only child of a minor lord of a small estate up north. 

“Did you hear that, Harry.” Amanda gushed. “Our Margaret has married a lord!”

“A very minor one, Mrs. Carter.” Monty chuckles. “And the last of the Montgomery line to boot, so nothing to be overly excited over.” 

Harrison grumbled, not easily swayed by such things. While Amanda beamed, “Well, once you and Peggy have children, they’ll carry on your family line, James. No need to fret.” 

“Mum.” Peggy sighs softly. “Can we not start in on that now?” 

After dinner Amanda shoos Harrison and Monty outside for their evening smokes while enlisting Peggy’s help in cleaning up. Once they're alone Amanda finally asks, “Do you love him, Peggy?” 

Peggy freezes up for a moment and then relaxes as she admits honestly, “I’m fond of him, Mum.” 

“Oh Peggy,” Amanda says softly as she cups her daughter’s cheeks. “I did so hope you would find love again after Steven.”

She had. She had found a wonderful love, and it hurt Peggy knowing she would never be able to share that with her parents. Peggy does her best to give her mother an honest smile. “Monty is a good man, Mum.”

It’s three long days before Peggy gets word from Angie that she’s in London. After the call she makes her way out to the patio where lunch is being served and when she’s asked who was on the phone she explains, “It was Angie. Howard’s brought her to London, but Howard being Howard, has abandoned her to focus on his work.” 

“I remember him during the war.” Monty chuckles. “He literally works in his sleep. Angie will be stuck in her hotel room her entire visit if she’s relaying on him to show her around.” 

“This is your former flatmate, yes?” Amanda asks. “Your friend you’ve told me so much about?” Peggy nods and Amanda smiles. “You should ask her to join us, dear. I would love to meet her, she sounds lovely, and I’m thankful you’ve had someone to rely on out there all on your own in that strange country you’ve moved too.” 

“Really Mum?” Peggy brightens and smiles when Amanda nods. “I’m going to the Eastend tomorrow to have luncheon with Aunt Phyllis. I’ll stop and see Angie then and ask if she’d like to come stay with us for a bit.” 

“That’s fine dear.” Amanda says warmly and then adds, “I love my sister, don’t get me wrong, but I am happy to see you haven’t completely followed in her footsteps.” 

Peggy groans and rolls her eyes. “Mum, Aunt Phyllis is a vetran and respected nurse and midwife.”

“And unmarried.” Amanda shakes her head sadly. “With no children of her own.” 

“Mum, please.” Peggy protests. She adored and idolized her aunt, and she really wasn’t in the mood to hear her mother moan on about everything she considered faults in the other woman. Faults she had warned Peggy of taking on more than once since becoming a young woman. 

“Leave the girl alone, Amanda.” Harrison says firmly, his voice gruff. “She got married to please you, now leave her be.” 

“Harrison.” Amanda gasps, her gaze darting over to Monty to see if he was offended. “James, he didn’t mean to imply…” 

“Woman, I said hush. I meant what I meant.” Harrison grunts and then stands from the table and heads back towards his work shed. 

Peggy’s taken aback by her father’s reaction and just sits there staring at him as he leaves. 

The next day Peggy drives to the Eastend of London to have lunch with her aunt who seems just as unsettled by her marriage as her father. Guilt rumbled in her belly because it seemed her mother was taking the brunt of the blame, as if she had somehow pressured Peggy into it. It didn’t help that her aunt asked, just as her mother had, if she loved her husband. She replied, as she had with her mother, that she was fond of Monty, which was the truth. She did care about him. While her mother’s reaction had been, fondness was good enough, her aunt’s was that it was far from what she had wanted for Peggy. “Love pet, I wanted a life full of love for you.” 

Peggy wished more than anything that she could tell her family that she had love. She wants so badly to tell them about Angie, but she can’t, and it’s breaking her heart. The heartache must show on her face or in her eyes because her aunt tries to reassure and comfort her, and when they part her embrace is just a little tighter than usual and lasts just a little longer. It must still be on her face or in her eyes when she steps into Angie’s hotel room because the moment the door is closed behind them she finds herself in her love’s embrace. 

“What’s wrong, English?” Angie asks as she holds Peggy’s face in her hands after finally letting her out of the hug she’d pulled her into. 

Peggy sighs, her eyes down cast. “It’s just harder than I expected, lying to and keeping secrets from my family. You’d think I’d be used to it.” 

“Aw Peg, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Angie replies as she pressed her forehead to Peggy’s. “What can I do?” 

“Remind me.” Peggy whispers, her eyes closed, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Remind me that my life is more than secrets and lies.” 

Angie nods. She takes hold of Peggy’s hand and without a word leads her to the bedroom of the hotel suite and lays her lover down on the bed. She frees Peggy and herself of their clothes and then spends the rest of the day showing Peggy just how much she loved her. They linger, wrapped up in each other, until the very last possible moment and then get up to wash and dress. Before they leave the hotel Peggy meets with Howard to go over some SHIELD business, and he tells her that in two days Monty will get a call recalling him to duty. He also tells her to take a few extra days off, and when she’s ready to head home his plane will be waiting. 

Peggy drives them back to Hampstead and the closer she gets to home the more nervous she gets. While she’d been racked with dread while arriving with Monty, she was now infested with nervous butterflies as she arrived with Angie. She supposes it’s because she didn’t really give a toss what her parents thought of Monty, but she cared a great deal what they thought of Angie. She probably shouldn’t have worried so much, because her parents took to Angie almost instantly. It took a day or so for them to get used to her bubbly personality, her New York American-ness, but once they’d gotten past that they clearly adored her. The morning after Monty left, Peggy overhears Angie and her mother in the kitchen. Angie was determined to learn as many of Peggy’s favorites as Amanda was willing to teach her, so the pair was often found in the kitchen together. 

“It’s very easy to see that you and Peggy mean a great deal to each other, Angie.” Amanda says softly. “I’m grateful she had someone to look out for her while she was on her own in that godforsaken metropolis she moved too.” 

“New York’s not all bad, Mrs. Carter.” Angie replies as she helps the older woman make breakfast. “But yeah, I’m glad we have each other to depend on too, and so is my Ma.” 

“I do hope you both remain friends now that Peggy’s married.” Amanda says next. “It’s important to have girlfriends in one’s life, even after marriage. There are just some things a man simply can not understand, actually there are a lot of things,” She chuckled softly. “So it’s nice to have someone to talk to who does.”

Angie smiles. “I’m not going anywhere, Mrs. Carter, I promise.” 

“Good.” Amanda smiles back. “Now, dear, may I give you a bit of advice?” 

“Um,” Angie replies, suddenly a little unsure of this conversation. “Sure?” 

“A sweet, beautiful, smart girl like you,” Amanda says as she pats Angie’s arm. “Can do so much better than that Howard Stark chap.” 

Peggy has to press her hand to mouth to cover her snort. 

Later that evening it’s Peggy’s father who does the overhearing. He’s in the hall outside the parlor when he hears a note played on their old piano, and it makes him stop in his tracks. 

“You play piano?” Angie asks, her bright blue eyes wide as she stares at Peggy. “You’ve never mentioned that before.” 

Peggy shrugs. “I know how, but I haven’t actually played since before the war.” 

Angie quickly rifles through the sheet music until she comes across Can’t Take That Away from Me, and smiles. Peggy liked Gershwin so it was perfect. “Play it for me, English. Please?” 

“Angie.” Peggy shook her head but Angie was giving her that look she was a sucker for and she couldn't’ say no. “Alright darling, give me the music, but I’m warning you. I’m not very good.” 

Harrison listens as his daughter begins to pluck away at the keys, recalling just days ago when she’d refused to play when her husband asked her too. Peaking around the corner he saw both Peggy and Angie sitting on the piano bench, Peggy playing and Angie singing softly. “The way you wear your hat, the way you sip your tea.” Never once did Peggy smile the way she’s smiling now when he would watch her with her husband. His daughter had always been, different, he knew that and never once did knowing that make him love her any less. So the next morning when he walked into the kitchen for breakfast he looked at his daughter and asked, “When was the last time you had rabbit or pheasant?” 

Peggy was a bit startled by the out of the blue question and shrugged. “I don’t know, Dad. Probably before I left for France?” 

Harrison grunted, “Come along then, Duckie, let's go see what we can find for supper.” 

“Harrison Carter.” Amanda huffed at her husband. “Peggy is a grown married woman now, she doesn’t want to go traipsing through the woods with…” 

Peggy shoots to her feet with the biggest, brightest smile. “I’ll go change, Dad! Give me two shakes of a lamb’s tail!” 

They all watch as Peggy dashes from the room and Angie laughs softly before asking, “Duckie?” 

Amanda sighs an exasperated sigh. “As soon as Peggy learned to crawl she started following her father around like a newly hatched duckling. He even stepped on her little fingers once, by accident, had to start looking down at his feet before taking a step. Thankfully he’d been in his socks.” 

Angie could literally feel her heart melt. “I would absolutely love to see pictures, Mrs. Carter.” 

That seemed to cheer the old woman up. “I have plenty, dear, of Peggy and Michael. You know, Angie, my son is a good man, handsome, a war veteran. A much better man than Howard Stark.” 

Angie had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. “Peg’s told me alot about him, Mrs. Carter, he sounds swell.” 

If they’d been at the country house they would have brought out the hunting rifles, but since they were still in Hampstead on private property yes but so close to public space, they had to use traps and snares. Peggy knew this had nothing to do with actually catching something for dinner. They could have just gone to the butcher for a pheasant or country hare if that’s what this was about, it would have been easier since the wildlife hadn’t really come back to thrive since the bombings. No, this had more to do with all the grunting and disapproving looks her father had been giving them since her arrival. 

And sure enough after the last trap was set and they had nothing to do but wait Harrison spoke up. “James seems like a,” He grumbled, “safe and stable chap.” 

“He’s a good man, Dad.” Peggy reassures her father. “I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if he weren’t.” 

“You’ve a good solid head on your shoulders, Peggy Carter.” Harrison doesn’t look at her, he looks out over the small pond they’re waiting by, looking her in the eye would be just a little too sentimental for the old fella. “I trust that whatever reasons you have for marrying him are good ones, and probably weren’t easy ones to make, so I will respect that.” 

Peggy blinks, unsure of how to respond to her father other than to say, “Thank you, Dad.” 

Silence grew between them for a bit, and then just when Peggy figured her father was finished giving her his reluctant approval, he spoke up again. “Now Angie, I like Angie.” Harrison says with a firm nod. “She has a kind heart. Clever girl, that one, and strong willed too. Lord knows we Carters can be a difficult lot. Yes, I think she’ll do.” Harrison hums thoughtfully, and then nods. “Indeed, she’ll do.” 

Standing there utterly gobsmacked Peggy just stared at her father with wide eyes. Her mind simply could not process what he was saying and the implications behind his words. Was he actually telling her that he approved of Angie? That wasn’t exactly the way one would tell their child, “I like your friend.” no, it definitely sounded like a father telling their child, “I approve of the person you love.” But that couldn’t be what her father was saying, because if that’s what he was saying, then he knew that she was in love with another woman, and that he was ok with that. 

“Duckie.” Harrison’s voice was firm, a little sharp. 

Peggy jumped. She hadn’t heard him speaking to her. “Sorry Dad, what?” 

“The traps, girl, go pick up the bloody traps.” Harrison repeated. “We’re not going to catch anything out here. Hardly anything’s come back since the bombs. We’ll toss ‘em over the wall then pick up something from ol’ McDougle in the butcher shop on our way back from the pub.” 

He smiled at her before he walked away and Peggy thought her heart would explode. Standing there in shock and wonder, she had a hell of a time fighting back tears. She manages until she finds the deed and key to the country house on her dresser the evening before she and Angie are due to leave. It’s in the middle of nowhere, with no one around, a place she could take Angie and be alone with her safely. Her father was giving her a safe place to call home here in her beloved England, and that she could not keep bottled up and allowed the tears to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nonna in google translated Italian: "You miss your mother." 
> 
> Peggy: "A lot, and my father too."
> 
> Nonna: "Now you are a family, comfort yourself, child."


	12. Chapter 12

1954/55

Camp LeHigh is busling all around them as SHIELD agents prepare for missions, as scientists work on new technology in their labs, and new recruits are put through their paces. Peggy sits behind her desk, in her office, behind the frosted glass window with it’s big black block letters that read Margaret Carter Director. Howard is sitting on the leather sofa in the corner, he should be listening to what is being said but she has a feeling he’s working on whatever his latest big idea is. Dum Dum Dugan is sitting in the chair across from her giving her his official report on the status of the Howling Commandos, now SHIELD’s most elite combat unit. Rose sits to the left of her desk with her stenograph machine taking official notes that she will later transcribe into official records. It has taken nearly five years, a lot of hard work, and a hell of a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, but SHIELD is finally running smoothly and Peggy couldn’t be more proud. 

When Dum Dum if finally finished Peggy ends the meeting and dismisses everyone. Rose leaves to get on with her work, but Dum Dum lingers. Howard’s still lost in his own head until Dum Dum pulls a bottle of expensive burbron from his pack. The way he looks up from his blueprints at the sound of the glass bottle hitting her desk makes Peggy think of the way her airedale terrier lifts his head from the floor when he hears a noise of interest, and it makes her roll her eyes at Howard. 

“Now that all the official hullabaloo is over.” Dum Dum says as he fetches three glasses from Peggy’s sidebar. “It’s time for a toast.” 

“What are we celebrating, Dum Dum?” Peggy asks as she watches the ginger man pour them each three fingers of bourbon. She raises an eyebrow at him regarding the amount and he just smiles at her as he hands her a glass. 

“Baby number four is comin’.” Dum Dum tells her proudly. 

“Good god, man.” Peggy gasps good naturedly. “Lorraine just had baby number three a year ago!” 

Dum Dum looks a little sheepish as he shrugs. “We were gonna hold off for a while, let the boys get a little age on ‘em before we tried again for a girl, but then I got shot, Lorraine got scared, then she got angry, we had a huge fight, and then we made up.” He smiled a huge smile and puffed his chest up in pride. “And now, well, if it’s a girl we’re gonna call her Margaret, Maggie or Meg for short, and if it’s another boy we’re gonna call ‘em Carter.” 

“Timothy.” Peggy says softly, a light pink blush tinting her cheeks. 

Howard’s moved from the leather sofa to the desk to join them and retrieve his drink. He’s smiling as he claps Dum Dum on the back with a laugh. “At this rate, Dum Dum, you’ll have an entire mini squad of commandos.” 

“I wouldn’t object to that.” Dum Dum replies brightly. Pride and happiness radiate off him like heat from the sun. 

Peggy snorts. “Lorraine might, she’s the one who has to bear these children of yours Dum Dum, and so far they haven’t been small babes.” 

Dum Dum thumps himself on the chest and grunts. “Dugans are hearty stock.” 

After Dum Dum and his bourbon leave Peggy is set to get back to work. She wanted to finish up early so she could make a side trip before heading home. Howard however was suddenly feeling chatty and dropped into the chair Dum Dum had occupied in front of her desk. She could feel his eyes on her, feel him smirking, and it made her sigh as she looked up from her files. “What?” 

“You think Dum Dum knows he’s about to name his kid after a woman who has kissed his wife?” Howard teases her. 

Peggy rolls her eyes. “Do you think he knows that Timothy Howard is named after a man who’s shagged his wife?” 

Howard laughed. “We were all so young and stupid and surrounded by war.” He shrugs. “We did things.”

She hums a soft sigh as she nods. “We all have regrets.” She looks Howard over with a critical eye and then adds. “Some more than others, I suppose.” 

“Life’s too short for regrets, Pegs.” Howard tells her.

If he really believed that he wouldn’t still be haunted by Steve’s loss. Peggy knew he was still looking for the crash site, despite it being pointless. He simply couldn’t let Steve go. Knowing what she knows of Howard now, that he, like herself, enjoyed the companionship of both men and women, Peggy can’t help but wonder if Howard had been in love with Steve as much as she had been. Watching him lose a little bit more of himself everyday to his past regrets, Peggy was more grateful than ever that she’d found Angie. She wished that Howard would find someone to love as well. “Was there anything else, Howard?” 

“You ever think about it, Peg?” Howard asks her.

Peggy bit back a sigh. “Think about what exactly, Howard? I think about a lot of things. Do try and be more clear on your inquiry.” 

This time Howard rolled his eyes and then asked, “Do you ever think about the kid thing. Ya know, having them, or whatever.” 

The question actually caught Peggy off guard. She’d had a feeling it was something personal, but of all the questions she’d been expecting, her feelings towards having children was not one of the topics she’d been bracing for. Her feelings about children were complicated, always have been. At one point in her life she had assumed she would have children, which was what was expected of her after all. She’d dreaded the idea a bit while engaged to Fred, but she’d convinced herself she’d be able to find contentment in being a housewife and mother. She had daydreamed about it during the war. A quiet peaceful life with Steve once the war was over, which had happily included children, a house behind a picket fence with light yellow siding and a front door with a window. Her life had taken a very different turn, however, and she had found her true bliss in a relationship that didn’t exactly lend itself to having children. But, if it were possible for them to have children, Peggy would give Angie as many babies as her wondrous heart desired. 

“I suppose I’ve spared a thought or two on the matter.” Peggy finally replies to Howard’s question. “But unless there’s a magical way in which Angie and I can have children together, I don’t see it happening. What about you?” 

“Me?” Howard squeaked, his eyes going wide. “Jesus, Peg, I can barely take care of myself! I ain’t nowhere near ready for a kid!” 

Peggy chuckles. “Yes, I suppose if not for Edwin, Ana, and myself, you’d have met your end a long time ago.” 

“Yeah, I owe you a lot Peg.” Howard replies as he makes up his mind to find a way to help his best pal and his best pal’s best girl, have whatever they wanted to make them happy. 

Music plays softly in the kitchen of the Martinelli-Carter home. Angie is between shows and fully enjoying her time as a housewife. She’d gotten up early the day before, a rare thing when she was working since it would often be well into early morning before she even got home after a show, to make Peggy breakfast. That’s when she discovered they were dangerously low on preserves, especially the marmalades, and the blackcurrant, and gooseberry jams Peggy loved so much. So she’d called Ana Jarvis, who Angie wasn’t ashamed to say was so much better at this sort of thing, and asked if she wanted to spend the day giving her a hand making more. Ana, who was always up for spending time with her friends, agreed happily. 

They had just started prepping to make the marmalades when the phone rang. Angie smiled at Ana, apologizing for the interruption, and then went into the other room to take the call. When she returned to the kitchen she had the biggest smile on her lips, and Ana couldn’t help but smile back. “Good news I take it?” 

“Yeah,” Angie replied with a nod. “That was my baby brother calling from Cleveland. He and his wife just had their first baby, a boy, Patrick Anglio Martinelli.”

“That is wonderful news.” Ana said cheerfully. 

Angie chuckled. “Gio was the last of Ma’s kids not to have any babies, so now hopefully she’ll lay off him and Kate for a while.” 

Ana looked confused by that statement. “How is he the last not to have children? Would that not, now be you?” 

“Well, yeah, I guess, but I don’t count.” Angie replies with a shrug. “Ma’s never fussed at me on account of the whole situation with Peggy that we don’t talk about.” 

“Ah.” Ana replies with a nod of somewhat understanding. While she may not fully understand the relationship between them, Ana can clearly see and understand the love Peggy and Angie have for one another, and seeing them happy together makes her happy. She will not judge those she loves for how God has decided they should love. “Do you and Peggy not wish to have children of your own?” 

Angie looks up from dicing orange peels and blinks. “Ana, sweetie, you know Peg and I are both girls, yeah?” 

“Are there not ways around that?” Ana asks. “Peggy is still married to Mr. Falsworth, isn’t she?”

“On paper, sure.” Angie replies. “But only on paper, and only because McCarthy refuses to admit he’s been found out for the louse he is.” If they weren’t standing in her kitchen Angie would have spit at having spoken his name, but since they were, she merely made a rude hand gesture that her Nonna was fond of. 

While Ana and Edwin had been devastated over Ana not being able to have children of her own, they hadn’t allowed that to keep them from being parents. There had been so many Jewish children left orphaned after the horrors of the war, and they had so much love to give. Ana reassured Angie that if children were something that she and Peggy wanted in their lives, a way for that to happen would arise. “If God wishes it, it will happen, the wishes of men be damned.” 

When Peggy gets home that evening she’s feeling a bit guilty for being late. Angie had called and asked her to pick up dinner on her way home, since she wasn’t cooking after spending all day making perseveres, and since Peggy was late it meant a late dinner. So not only did she walk into their home with meals from their favorite chinese place, but flowers for her wife as an apology. “Darling, I’m home. Sorry I’m late, love. I went to see Michael after work and lost a bit of time.” 

The first to greet Peggy after she’d shed her jacket and shoes was Basil, their nearly two year old airedale terrier. The poor thing had gotten his name for the simple reason that Angie loved the way Peggy said the word with her accent. Shifting the flowers to the crook of the arm whose hand held the bag with their dinner in it, Peggy paused on her journey to find Angie to give Basil a pat. 

“Don’t let him get his snoot in the bag, Peg.” Angie scolds as she appears from the other room. “He’ll try to eat the egg rolls.” She smiles when she sees the flowers. “Those for me?”

Peggy nods as she hands Angie the flowers. “I really didn’t mean to be late, I even left work early so I would be home in time for dinner.” 

Angie smells the collection of seasonal flowers and then leans in to kiss Peggy hello. “I wasn’t even mad at ya, English, I figured you’d get caught up checkin’ in on Michael. How’s he doing?” 

Peggy beams as she makes her way towards the kitchen to deposit her bag of take away and wash up. “He hasn’t been triggered for over a year now. His doctors are fairly sure he’s recovered from the brainwashing itself, though he’ll most likely be dealing with the aftermath of it for quite some time. Because of that the tribunal has agreed to allow him to continue serving out his sentence in the hospital.” Her warm smile of relief over her brother’s continued recovery shifted to a more cheeky smile as she pulled plates from the cabinet after washing up at the kitchen sink. “Michael was in very good spirits when I arrived. Just as I was walking into his room Sharon Phillips was leaving it.” 

Angie’s eyebrows shot up and she chuckled softly. “Chester’s youngest granddaughter? The one at Elmira College?” 

“That’s the one.” Peggy nods as she begins preparing their plates. “She’s been working with Chester, helping him with his memoirs in preparation for her master’s program in history. She’d been with Chester when he stopped in to check in on Michael, and I guess she’s become a regular visitor since then. Michael quite fancies her, I think.” 

Over dinner they continue to talk about their days, and while walking Basil after dinner they both mention the baby news they’d received that day. Neither of them mentioned anything about any personal feelings the baby news had brought up in them. Neither one of them could even begin to fathom a possibility that they could have that kind of family, one that included children. So neither of them saw a reason to bring up feelings that they could do nothing about. Feelings that might have never come to light if not for Howard who came to Peggy’s birthday dinner bearing an unexpected gift. 

Peggy looked through the folder of information with a confused expression while Howard sat close by with a look of hopeful pride, like a child waiting to hear a parent tell them well done. “Artificial insemination in livestock and domestic farm animals?” Peggy looks up at Howard, thoroughly confused. “I don’t understand what this is for Howard.” 

“It’s for you and Angie.” Howard tells her, his dark eyes darting between the two women. His chosen sister who’s always there for him no matter how much trouble and heartache he causes, and the woman she loved with all her heart. “So you can have a family if you want one.” 

Peggy’s still confused, and now fighting to keep any unexpected feelings at bay. “You’re suggesting that either Angie or I should undergo a medical treatment used on cows and bitches?”

Howard rolled his eyes. “It’s being used on humans too. In 1943, ‘48, and ‘53, three different doctors used artificial insemination in humans that resulted in successful pregnancies and healthy babies. It’s just not widely covered because the religious types have deemed that any kind of meddlings in conception is unnatural. According to them you’re all just supposed to lay flat on your back and take it until you get knocked up, have the kid, and then repeat repeatedly.” 

They were all in the kitchen. Angie was putting the finishing touches on Peggy’s birthday roast dinner, and starting on the Victoria cake she made every year because it was Peggy’s favorite. She even used Amanda’s recipe. While Howard and Peggy sat at the breakfast bar with coffees. Howard had arrived early and had promised Angie that what he wanted to talk to Peggy about had nothing to do with SHIELD. She hadn’t believed him, and even if she had, this wasn’t even close to what she thought he could have wanted to talk to her about. Stepping over to the counter while drying her hands Angie asked, “May I see?” 

Peggy’s gaze looked up from the sheets of paper in the file Howard had given her to look at Angie, to gage what her wife could possibly be thinking. She bites her lip as she slides the file over to Angie, and watches as she starts skimming the information within.

“I hope I haven’t upset either of you.” Howard says when the silence begins to make him squirm. With Peggy’s focus on Angie, and Angie’s on the file, it had grown quiet. “I know it’s not exactly what Peggy said she wanted, there’s no such thing as magic, and science just isn’t at a point yet where you two could make a baby together, but this could offer a way to at least create a family.” 

Angie looks up at that. “What Peggy said she wanted?” 

Peggy bit her lip as she looked into Angie’s smoky blue gaze. “I might have mentioned wanting to have children with you, but I didn’t think it was a possibility, and it still isn’t in the way I meant. This method, it would still require a certain component neither of us can produce. It would still require a father, and only one of us would be physically involved.” 

“If this,” There was an emotional hitch in Angie’s voice that she had to clear before she could continue. Just the thought of having a minute possibility of having a family with Peggy had her heart filling with hope. “If this is something we both want and decide to do together, Peggy.” Her voice is soft and she can no longer hide the emotion lacing it at the sudden unexpected possibilities. “I ain’t gonna care about the particulars of how it happens.” 

There was so much to unpack and discuss now that this was out there, but for now Peggy just sat there in her kitchen staring at the woman she loved while utterly and completely gobsmacked. 

It wasn’t really the kind of conversation one had in a single evening. They were considering changing their lives drastically, adding an element that would bring them wondrous joy, but also undeniable difficulties. Difficulties they both agreed would be worth facing because the more they talked about it, the more they each thought about it, the more they both wanted it. 

Angie’s head was pillowed against Peggy’s chest listening to the steady drum beat of her wife’s heart in it’s resting rhythm. Peggy’s right arm is wrapped around her tightly as they cuddle, and the fingers of her left lazily glide up and down Angie’s arm. There’s a spring storm going on outside, pelting their windows with the clatter of thick raindrops, and occasionally lighting up the darkness with a bolt of lightning that leads to a clap of thunder that gently rattles the house. Angie loves moments like this, which is why she’s hesitant to break the comfortable stillness, but she’d been thinking about this for a few days now and she needed to say it.

“I think, if we decide to do this, it should be you.” Angie’s voice is soft to try and keep some of the peaceful bliss they were wrapped in intact. 

“Oh?” Peggy’s voice is just as calm and soft. “Why is that?”

This is the part that had been rattling around in Angie’s mind, the part she needed to bring up, but wasn’t sure how Peggy would take it. “Because you’re the one who is actually married.” 

She can feel Peggy’s body tense up instantly at the mention of her marriage. None of them had thought it would need to last this long, nearly five years now, but those mooks in the capitol just would not give up the goat and surrender. They continued to use and abuse their power and were ruining peoples lives in the process. Anyone seen as a threat, or simply different, could find themselves hauled in to face questions about their lives and forced to swear their loyalty or risk losing everything. Hollywood had been hit hard, the blacklists grew day by day with the names of actors, directors, producers, writers, and even crew who had their names given by someone also facing accusations. While the theater crowd wasn’t as targeted as the Hollywood film and television crowd, they still needed to watch their backs, and while Angie now had a steady stage career, she wasn’t a big enough name to truly garner any attention. Peggy on the other hand was a foreign born woman who held a powerful position at an international intelligence agency who had been called in front of the House Un-American Activities Committee to answer stupid questions like why was she fluent in Russian, what kind of things had she done as a codebreaker, what had she really been doing in the Soilvet Union back in ‘46, and why was she, a woman, chosen by Howard Stark to be director of SHIELD. 

Angie shifts a bit and so does Peggy so they are laying face to face and looking into each other eyes. “Hear me out, Peg.” Angie says gently. “I know how much you hate being defined by your marital status. You nearly killed that poor salesman with his own pen when we bought the car and he asked if you had your husband’s permission to buy it. But you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions, and who can deal with the aftermath of those decisions, and so am I. Whatever stigmas we face because I’ve apparently decided to be an old spinster and you’re gonna end up a divorcee, we can handle it, no problem, because we know what to expect and we’re a couple of tough broads who have each other’s backs. A kid though, Peg, an innocent little baby who’s only here because we wanted them, why should he or she have to face the bullshit other people will throw at it because of our choices.” 

“You think I should be the one who has our child because my marriage may be lavender, but it’s legal, therefore the child will be legitimate?” Peggy asks to clarify. 

Angie nods. “The kid would have an easier time being a child from a broken home than he or she would being illegitimate.” Peggy stiffens at the word and her gaze falls from Angie’s eyes to her chin. “Peg?” 

“I wish I could argue with you on this, Angie.” Peggy says softly. “But you’re right.”

“I am?” Angie’s surprised. She really had expected more of an argument on this. Peggy is always about standing on her own two feet and not giving in to social norms and expectations. “Honestly English, I was expecting a fight from you on this.” 

Peggy sits up and shifts so her back is up against the headboard. She draws her knees up to her chest, and rests her chin on them for a moment as she gets her thoughts and feelings under control. She feels Angie shifting beside her, and feels her press up against her side, and she sighs softly. When Angie says her name in a soft concerned whisper Peggy raises her head and looks Angie in the eye again. “Do you remember last year when I visited you while you were filming your part for Howard’s musical film? Do you remember that horrible row I had with my mother because she thought I was neglecting my marriage and that’s why I hadn’t any children yet?”

Angie nods as she brushes soothingly at Peggy’s hair.

“I didn’t know what to do about my mother, I was so hurt and angry, so I went to talk to my Aunt Phyllis.” Peggy tells her.

Angie smiles. “I love Phyllis.” But her smile fades. “You were upset for days, Peg. Did she not help? She normally does. She has a magic touch when it comes to cranky Peggy.” 

Peggy crinkles her nose at being described in what felt like a childish way, but then she smiles for a moment as she says, “The feeling is mutual, darling, Aunt Phyllis adores you.” But then her expression changes and she chews her lip for a moment before sighing deeply and continuing. “Aunt Phyllis tried to help me understand my mother’s perspective a little better by admitting something to me.” She bits her lip again, she sighs softly again. “She told me that she and my mother were both illegitimate, in fact they’re only half sisters, and that it was incredibly difficult for them growing up.” Taking Angie’s hand she brings it to her chest and presses it against her heart. “And while times have changed, there’s still a stigma attached to that sort of thing, so what kind of mothers would we be if we knowingly choose to burden our child with that when we didn’t have too.” 

“Then that’s settled.” Angie says as she reaches up with her free hand to cup Peggy’s cheek. “You’ll be our baby’s mother.” She leans in and presses a kiss to Peggy’s lips and then smiles when she pulls back and adds, “If we’re going to use Monty to legitimize our kid, do you think maybe we should ask him if he wants to help make it?” 

“Are you suggesting we actually use my husband to father my children?” Peggy teases. “What a novel idea.” 

James Montgomery Falsworth was the last of his family line. He had long ago come to terms with that, but continued to carry guilt for condemning his lineage to extinction. He hadn’t ever wanted to use a woman simply to carry on his name, and he had told Peggy and Angie that when they brought up this little venture of theirs. Angie had kissed his cheek and called him a true gentleman sweetheart, and then teasingly reassured him that they would be respectfully using each other. His family line would continue on, and he could decide how much or little involvement he had with the child, while she and Peggy got to raise the child together as a family. 

Angie nearly fell off the couch laughing when they started talking about the logistics of how this would work. It was actually fairly simple and straightforward. Monty would deposit his contribution into a sterile medical specimen cup. As long as the sample was kept at body temp, they had up to an hour to use it. Angie would then use a needless syringe to draw the product out of the cup, insert it into Peggy, and then inject it’s contents. From there, things should work naturally. But to listen to Peggy and Monty plan it all out, you’d think they were planning one of their SHIELD missions. Angie was half tempted to draw out a picture of the female reproductive system on a sheet of parchment paper from her kitchen, and lay it out on the coffee table with Peggy’s chess pieces to make a little war table like in Peggy’s old war pictures. Her English wife did not find her suggestion nearly as amusing as Angie herself did. 

They tried once a month for several months, a couple of times they even tried twice in one month, but it just didn’t seem to be working. Peggy tried to hide her growing disappointment, but Angie knew her too well, and would always do her best to comfort and encourage Peggy after the arrival of her monthlies each month. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Angie teases when Peggy finally makes her way into the kitchen on a bright winter’s morning. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever getting up. I didn’t think I wore you out that much last night.” 

Peggy blushes as she stifles a yawn behind the back of her right hand as she stretches her left arm up over her head. “Good morning, my darling.” She kisses Angie’s cheek just before Angie places a cup of coffee in her hand. “I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to lay in this morning, I’ve just been rather tired of late.”

“You’re workin’ to hard, English.” Angie scolds as she puts Peggy’s soft boil egg in it's little egg pestle and sets it on the table along with her strips of buttered toast. She doesn’t notice Peggy go pale since she’d already turned to get the plate of English style bacon to set down along with it. 

While the bacon further turned Peggy’s stomach it’s the half a ruby red grapefruit that Angie sets in front of her that has Peggy running for the loo.

Angie looks confused and concerned as she stands there in shock for a moment. Then she chases after Peggy and finds her wife curled around the toilet giving back whatever was left of dinner from the night before. “English?” Peggy makes a soft whimpering moan that breaks Angie’s heart. Angie wets a washcloth with cool water and then moves to Peggy’s side. She pulls her wife’s chestnut locks back into a ponytail, which she holds with her right hand while laying the cool cloth on the back of her neck with her left. “Just relax sweetheart, I got you.” 

It isn’t until later that afternoon as she cuddles with Peggy on the couch after making her sip ginger ale and peppermint tea, and making her chicken soup for lunch that it hits Angie. The fact that Peggy’s been so tired lately, and the way she’d hissed more in discomfort than pleasure when Angie squeezed her breasts too hard the other night, and now the puking at the sight of what’s a typical breakfast for her. “Dio mio! Sono un idiota! ”

Peggy’s startled by Angie’s sudden shout and sits up to frown at her. “What’s wrong?” 

Angie stares at her love for a moment and then squeals, “Peggy!” 

“What?!” Peggy replies, blinking and growing concerned. 

“Peggy!” Angie squeals again. “You’re pregnant!” 

Peggy barely has time to process the words before she finds herself being kissed rather thoroughly, and a kiss like that doesn’t allow for any real thought processing so she just gives into it until Angie pulls away. “Do you really think?” 

“Yeah, love, I do.” Angie beams. “I really really do.” 

Peggy doesn’t know how else to respond to the joy that washes over them both in that moment other than to say, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, English.” Angie replies and then kisses her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angie in google translated Italian: "My God! I'm an idiot!"
> 
> and if anyone wants to see pics I use for inspiration, like say if you wanna know what Basil looks like, I have a StoriesbyReese instagram


	13. Chapter 13

There was no way in bloody hell Peggy Carter was going to allow herself to be bullied into doing what other people thought best for her and her child. She had seen Lorraine Dugan after the birth of her and Dum Dum’s first child. Lorraine had a hospital birth, as was the recommendation for first babies these days, and Peggy had witnessed its aftermath. The so-called Twilight Sleep delivery had left Lorraine in a fog for days, and when she was fully out of the drugs’ grasp there was a look in Lorraine’s eyes that sent chills down Peggy’s spine. After her pregnancy was confirmed by her doctor, Peggy had daringly asked Lorraine about what had happened, and though reluctant because these were matters simply not discussed, Lorraine told her everything because she didn’t want Peggy to go through that. Alone in a room, strapped to a delivery bed, not a single warm or comforting soul around, drugged to high heavens. No, Peggy would be having none of that! 

“A hospital birth really is what’s best for you, Mrs. Falsworth.” The doctor had told her. “Given your advantaged age…” 

“It’s Carter, and I’m thirty-four you git, not one hundred and four.” Peggy had huffed at him. 

The doctor had huffed a bit and looked at Peggy like a disapproving headmaster. “Perhaps it’s best I speak with your husband on the matter. He will be able to make the sensible, and responsible choice, unencumbered by too many emotions.”

“My husband respects my choices regarding my welfare as well as that of our child’s.” Peggy argued. “Barring any unforeseen complications I will be having a home birth attended by a midwife. Since you are clearly unwilling to work with this plan of action I dismiss you of your services and I will require my medical records.”

“You’ll be hard pressed to find an American doctor willing to agree to this emotional and ill advised plan, Mrs. Falsworth.” The doctor says angrily. 

Peggy bits back as much of her anger and annoyance as she can. “Then I shall return to England if I have too.” She stands, holds out her hand for her records, and adds. “And for the last bloody time it’s Mrs. Carter.” 

For most of her pregnancy up to this point Peggy had been able to soldier on through the symptoms and side effects. She was quick to pinpoint what triggered her morning sickness so she could do her best to avoid it, and she was no stranger to fatigue or headaches, the sore, tender breasts were annoying and uncomfortable but again something she could deal with. The mood swings however, those were bloody terrible and starting to royally piss her off. She managed just fine at work because there she could easily slip into Director Carter mode and that allowed her to remain focused and clear headed. It was when she was dealing with personal everyday things that could set her off. The anger and annoyance she’d felt at the doctor morphed into weeping as soon as she sank into her living room sofa. 

“Here sweetheart,” Angie says softly as she places a tea cup in Peggy’s hands. “Sip this, it’ll help you feel better.” 

Peggy sniffles as she accepts the tea and before she takes a drink mutters, “Sodding pillicock piece of shite, who does he think he is telling me I’m not fit enough to make the proper bloody choices for me and mine.” 

Angie chuckles. “Pulling out the northern swears, he really must have ticked you off.” She reaches out and starts to rub Peggy’s back and then slips her hand under her wife’s hair to massage her neck. Just when she thought she couldn’t possibly love Peggy anymore than she already did, pregnant Peggy proved her wrong, because pregnant Peggy was just so damn adorable and endearing and Angie was loving every single second of it. When Peggy was calmer and more relaxed Angie drew her into her side to cuddle and said, “If you really want to go back to England to have the baby we’ll do that, but I know you’re worried about traveling right now, so I might have a solution.”

“Oh?” Peggy replies softly. Their right hands are entwined and Peggy is playing with Angie’s silver wedding band as a way to ground herself as her mood swing settles.

“I called your aunt.” Angie tells her. “And I asked for her help and advice.”

Peggy sits up to stare at Angie with wide brown eyes. She wasn’t sure why she found this surprising, Angie had done nothing but take the very best care of her since they discovered that Peggy was indeed pregnant. “You did? What did she say?” 

“If she can work it out, apparently they're short a midwife at the moment, she’d love to be here for you. She said she was there when you were born.” Angie smiles as Peggy nods and tells her that her aunt had been present for both her and Michael’s births. “But it would have to be closer to when you’re due. Until then, she gave me the number of a friend of hers, a midwife she’d worked with for awhile, one she trusts completely.” 

The tears were back but this time they were because of how much Angie loved her, and really the crying was getting ridiculous, but for the moment Peggy didn’t care. “You’re absolutely wonderful, my darling.” 

Peggy calls the midwife, Nurse Mount, who is more than willing to come out to Peggy’s home to speak with her, especially after Peggy tells her who her aunt is. During their first meeting Peggy takes pride in knowing her aunt spoke of her often. Her mother would tell people that Peggy supported the war effort, but her aunt Phyllis proudly proclaimed her niece was a veteran who served in the war just as she herself had. Since it was still early in the pregnancy they agreed to face to face check-ins once a month, with a phone call in between until Peggy was further along, since she was doing well so far. 

They decided not to announce anything or tell anyone right away, but as weeks turned into months, it was starting to get a bit more difficult to hide the fact that Peggy was developing a bump. Angie thought that Peggy was starting to get a bump a bit sooner than most of the girls she’d known who’d been pregnant, but she didn’t mention that to Peggy, at least not while she was still suffering through her mood swings. Poor Peggy wasn’t even safe while watching television with her in the evenings. The Heinz advertisements were the worst, the one for baby food with the cartoon baby was so cute it made her cry and bubble with excitement at their own pending little one, and the one for baked beans made her homesick because one must have Heinz baked beans for a proper English breakfast, and that made her cry. 

Sitting on the edge of their bed, Angie watched with amusement as Peggy tried to zip up her skirt. “I’ll talk to Ana about letting out her skirts, English. Why don’t you try the navy slacks with the elastic in the waistband.” 

Peggy pouted at her reflection in the full length mirror on the back of their closet door. “I thought I would have a bit longer before my clothes started getting too small, a couple more weeks at least.”

Angie was distracted by the tenison the buttons on Peggy’s blouse were now under so it took a moment for her to respond, “You’ll have to give in and get some maternity things soon.”

“I’d rather not wear muu-muus to work, Angie.” Peggy huffed. Giving up on getting her skirt zipping she disappeared into the closest to get her navy trousers. 

“Who said anything about muu-muus?” Angie replies. “There are some very fashionable and cute outfits for mamas-to-be these days, English.”

“I can’t go into work looking cute, Angie.” Peggy aruges, stepping out in her navy trousers and a different top. 

Now Angie was the one pouting. “Aww, why’d you change your shirt?”

“Because the only person I want looking at my chest the way you just were is you.” Peggy walks over to Angie and dips down to kiss her pout away. 

When they do start telling people they start off small, Monty of course, Howard, the Jarvises, which Peggy regrets a bit because Edwin becomes even more of a mother hen. She tells Micahel in person the next time she visits. He’s a bit confused and she reassures him that this is something she wanted, something she and Angie wanted, and not something she was pressured into. She calls and tells her mother, and the relief in Amanda Carter’s voice makes Peggy roll her eyes. She reassures her mother that she is getting the best of care, and being looked after, so there’s no need for her to come all the way over from England. She then begs her father to keep her mother home, and promises to make arrangements for them to come over after the baby is born.

“Are you sure you don’t want your mother here, Peg?” Angie asks after Peggy tells her about the phone call. 

Peggy nods firmly. “It would be lovely to have her here, sure, but I don’t want to spend a moment of any of this pretending like you and I aren’t doing it together. I want you at my side, darling, no one else.” 

Angie smiles before kissing Peggy and then pressing their foreheads together. “I’ll be wherever you want or need me, Peg.” 

Their relationship was something Angie’s family was aware of but it was never talked about in detail. Peggy was Angie’s ‘friend’ in conversation, but she was considered family by most of the Martinellis, especially Nonna Sofia. Peggy had been welcome to join Sunday dinners for awhile, but now she was expected to be at dinner with Angie every week. They had barely gotten their winter coats off, let alone said a word to anyone, when Gianna began eyeing Peggy closely. Peggy squirmed a bit under the older woman’s scrutiny. She watched Gianna look at Angie, and the two seemed to have a silent conversation that was making Peggy a little nervous. Then she once again felt Gianna’s eyes on her, only this time they were much softer, and filled with joy. She hugs Peggy, kisses her on each cheek, and then takes her hand and leads her to the kitchen where Sofia and Angie’s sister are. She announces that a new baby is coming, and everyone is happy for her.

Angie loses track of Peggy at one of her family’s dinners only to find her out on the fire escape. When she climbs out the window to join her, Peggy jumps and Angie laughs. “English? What on earth are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” 

“Hiding.” Peggy answers honestly. 

“Hiding from what?” Angie asks, her eyebrow raised and her amusement growing. 

“Nonna.” Peggy huffs. 

Angie bursts out laughing. “You’re out here on the fire escape freezing your tits off because you’re hiding from Nonna? Peggy, you love Nonna, and she adores you. Why are you hiding from Nonna?” 

“She’s trying to make me eat liver and drink goat’s milk, Angie.” Peggy pouts, her voice laced with annoyance. Her arms are crossed over her fuller than normal chest, partly because it’s what she did when she was annoyed or angry, and partly because she was actually rather cold but too stubborn to go back inside. “I bloody loath liver, Angala!” 

Petulant pregnant Peggy was one of Angie’s favorite pregnant Peggys. Stepping closer to her wife, Angie put her hands on Peggy’s crossed arms and tried to get her to relax. “Liver is good for the baby, Peg.” 

“I don’t care, it’s disgusting and I refuse.” Peggy harrumphed. 

Angie bit her lip to keep herself from laughing. “Now Peggy, it’s for the baby.” She tried to sound as if she were scolding her wife but there was just too much of a giggle in her tone for it to come across as anything but delighted. She really was a sucker for pregnant Peggy. “Just take a few bites to satisfy Nonna and then we’ll take the rest home to Basil, and later when we’re all tucked in for the night, I’ll make sure you get a nice reward for being a good girl.” 

Peggy crinkled her nose.

Angie laughed. 

When Angie wasn’t around to tend to Peggy's needs and wants Jarvis was there to fill in. He did not, thankfully, force her to eat the processing organs of domesticated farm animals, though he did offer to make her a steak and kidney pie. She informed him that if he did he would be wearing it. He did make her a proper fish and chips, bangers and mash, cottage pie, and whatever other English food she asked for and brought it to the base for her lunch. He also dropped off ginger cakes and jelly rolls at the house. When she and Angie would argue over the cod liver oil Peggy was being forced to take like she was a child again, Jarvis would produce a packet of fizz balls, sherbert lemons, or rhubarb and custard bonbons. He made sure that she had tea and digestives as if he could sense when she was feeling peckish, and would fetch the midwife for her check-ins without Peggy having to ask. Ana Jarvis too was a huge help to Peggy during this time. She let out Peggy’s skirts and trousers when she could, and even made her a couple of skirts and jackets for work in the style Peggy liked only in maternity sizes. But what Peggy appreciated most from Ana, was that while most of the attention was on Peggy, Ana made sure to be there for Angie as well. 

Throughout her entire pregnancy Peggy had a great deal of support and she was grateful for it. Especially when the news broke out at Lehigh and the whispers of whether she should be there started floating around, along with the mutterings of her stepping down and Stark taking on the role of Director. Peggy made it perfectly clear to everyone within SHIELD as well as outside forces who felt it was time for her to give up her silliness and step down, that she was going nowhere, and that she was more than capable of continuing on as Director. Her pregnancy and approaching motherhood would not make her any less the person she was. 

“She must have Falsworth’s balls in a vice if he’s letting her carry on like this.” She’d overhead an agent say. That agent was quickly reassigned to cataloging the archives in a very small, very cold, province in Canada. What really shut people up is when Peggy showed up to training, clearly and unquestionably showing, and proceeded to put agents on their asses, one after the other for forty minutes. The next time she’d over heard something from one of her agents, one had asked another if he’d seen right, “Was the Director knitting?” And his partner had replied, “Yeah, and she could kill us both with one of the needles so shut it, Jensson.” 

Nurse Mount, Patsy, was constantly fussing at Peggy about her stress levels and blood pressure. Peggy did her best to reassure her that she was being mindful of it, but sometimes, given her work, she got stressed. As Peggy’s pregnancy progressed Patsy started to come every two weeks about halfway through the second trimester. On one of her visits she brought a second nurse midwife with her. Peggy and Angie would eventually learn that she was Patsy’s girlfriend. But for this particular visit Patsy had brought her to double check a suspicion she’d been harboring since sometime around Peggy’s fourteenth week, and now that Peggy was further along would be much easier to confirm. 

Peggy lays still and quiet as the two midwives press into her ever expanding belly, moving their hands as if looking to feel something in particular. She holds her breath as each of them take turns using a device that looks like a metal ice cream cone to listen to what’s happening inside with the baby, long turns where they move the cone to different spots, and listen more. Finally Nurse Busby looks up at Nurse Mount, smiles and nods. 

“What’s wrong?” Peggy demands as her dark eyes dart between the two women. She feels Angie come over and sit on the bed beside her, taking her hand. Peggy had been worried about a strange feeling she’d been having, and now she was afraid it was something serious. 

“Nothing’s wrong, Peggy, everything is developing beautifully. That odd sensation you described, the weird little squiggles, that’s movement.” Patsy reassures and then her warm smile grows as she adds, “The babies are growing and thriving, and they’re starting to move around.” 

Peggy relaxes into Angie’s side for about three seconds before it hits her and her eyes go wide. “Babies?” 

Two heartbeats. That’s why Patsy had wanted Delia to take a listen, to confirm she’d been hearing two destivive heartbeats. Twins. 

Double the babies meant double the stress and anxiety, which meant less sleep for Peggy. Not that she was sleeping well these days, it was getting harder and harder to get comfortable, and now it seemed that when she did fall asleep she was awake in the wee hours of the morning. She slips out of bed, and grabs some files before heading down to the kitchen. Now that she was feeling movement, this whole thing was becoming far more real. She was going to be a mother, and honestly Peggy felt as if it were the scariest thing she has ever done. Hydra and Leviathan had nothing on pending motherhood. 

When Peggy got up it didn’t take long for Angie to wake up and discover she was alone in their bed. She laid there for a few moments listening to see if Peggy was in the bathroom. When she didn’t hear anything she got up, wrapped her robe around herself, slipped on her slippers and went looking for her wife. She found her sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of food, a cup of tea, and her work. “English, you should be sleeping.” 

“I was, and then I wasn’t.” Peggy replied without looking up from what she was writing in a file. 

Angie walked over to the table and looked down at the plate near Peggy’s left hand and blinked. There was a sandwich, corn chips, and some small gherkins, which didn’t seem too unusual, until she took a closer look at the sandwich. Picking up the uneaten half she peeled back a corner and tried not to grimace. It seemed Peggy had made herself a potted meat sandwich on white bread with onions, capers, sardines, cheese, and olives, slathered in brown mustard, and peanut butter. “Interesting midnight snack.” 

Peggy looks up and shrugs. “I had a craving.” 

“What woke you, sweetheart?” Angie asks as she sets the sandwich half back on the plate. 

“I’m not sure.” Peggy admits as she sits back in her chair. She closes her file and sets her pen down, and then places her hand on her ever expanding belly. 

As much as Angie loved pregnant Peggy, she did miss being able to sit in Peggy’s lap. Pulling a chair closer instead she sat close enough that her knees were pushed up against Peggy’s thighs. “Starting to get a little overwhelming, huh?” 

Peggy nods. “Two on one seemed like very reasonable odds. Two on two feels as if they’ll have the upper hand.” 

“Ma says that we need to realize that we’re going to make mistakes.” Angie says, trying to reassure her worried wife. “And that we need to be ok with that. She said that the most important thing we need to do is love unconditionally, and to make sure everything we do comes out of that. I think we can do that, don’t you?” 

“I think we can manage that.” Peggy replies as she leans forward to press her forehead to Angie’s. 

They sit like that in the stillness of their kitchen soaking up reassurance and comfort from one another for some time before Angie notices that Peggy is dozing off. She smiles, and kisses Peggy softly. “Come on English, let's go back to bed. The four of us need our rest.” 

The four of them, Peggy, Angie, and their children, a beautiful family of four. It makes Peggy smile. “Lead the way, my love.” 

For the first couple of months the babies would be staying in their room to make it easier for Peggy, who once again was bulking popular option, and had decided to breastfeed. But they were still planning on turning the spare room closest to theirs into a proper nursery, and had spent a whole Saturday shopping for everything they would need. Howard had opened accounts at several department stores as a gift, and Jarvis had driven them to each. They picked out double of everything, and Angie got a kick out of serving as interrupter for the poor sale’s girls who looked at Peggy oddly when she’d say things like, “We’ll need two of the white cots for the nursery.” 

“She means the cribs, one with the bunny and one with the lamb.” Angie smiled warmly at the sale’s girl while pointing out the set they wanted. 

“We’ll need a pram wide enough for twins if we don’t want to get two.” Peggy says as she looks at a beautiful royal blue carriage with a white interior. “We can wait on a pushchair.” 

Pram the sales girl knew, but the pushchair got a strange look. Angie chuckles after she translates it to stroller. The sales girl smiles and nods at Angie, who Peggy had introduced as her children’s godmother, because that’s who she would be. Peggy had wanted something official and meaningful and socially acceptable to call Angie, to let people know she held a special place in their children’s lives. While in their home Angie would be just as much the children’s mother as Peggy, in the outside world, she would need to be something else. So Peggy had asked her to be godmother as well as mother to their children. 

With everything ordered and scheduled for delivery Angie had taken it on herself to clean and paint the room after it had been cleared out. She had practically ordered Peggy to stay on the sofa with her swollen feet up, leaving her to work on her knitting of the babies’ yellow and green matinee coats. Until the babies were born and they knew what their gender was, they had color coded them as one yellow, and one green. Angie had a small portable radio with her in the nursery but it wasn’t too loud just in case she needed to hear Peggy calling out for her. Which she did.

“Angie!” Peggy’s voice bellowed from the living room. “Angie, come quick!” 

Angie dropped the roller into the tray, causing some of the pale green paint to splatter on the part of her leg not covered by her old clam diggers, as well as the floor. She dashes down the stairs and rushes into the living room slightly panting with her heart pounding in her chest. “Peggy? Peggy, what’s wrong?” 

Peggy is on her feet with a wide eyed express and a huge smile. As soon as Angie is within arm’s reach she grabs hold of her wife’s wrist and presses Angie’s hand against her belly. 

“Peggy,” Angie is confused and slightly scared. “What’s…” She feels the thump against her hand and gasps, her smokey blue eyes widen when she realizes what she’s feeling.

There are tears of joy welling in Peggy’s eyes as she presses her hand on top of Angie’s. “Someone has decided to make their presence known to the outside world.” 

“Hi there.” Angie says with awe in her voice. She puts her other hand on the other said of Peggy’s belly and smiles. “I guess this means the two of you are big enough now to really give your Mummy some trouble, huh?” She lifts her eyes to look into Peggy’s as she asks, “Does it hurt?” 

“No.” Peggy reassures her love. “It feels very strange, but it doesn’t hurt.” 

Strange turns into uncomfortable as the twins get bigger, especially when they’re active at the same time. Peggy is an average sized woman but there simply isn’t enough room for them both to get comfy in there as time goes on and they grow bigger. Sitting on the sofa, Peggy tries to knit while she and Angie watch Ed Sullivan, but whoever is on the right has decided to do a jig that’s bordering on slightly painful. It was enough to make her set her knitting aside so she could rub at the stop where the baby was kicking, and even give a softly moaned gasp. 

“English?” Angie turns to look at her wife and sees the pinch around her eyes that said Peggy was uncomfortable. “You alright, sweetheart?” 

“Bunny is at it again.” While both babies moved and kicked, the one on the right seemed to kick a bit more often, and a bit more sharply, so Peggy had taken to calling them Bunny, while the baby on the left had become her Little Lamb. “I don’t think she likes this evening’s musical guest.” 

“He’s not an Elvis fan, huh?” Angie smiles as she gets up to turn the television set off. When she returns to the sofa she doesn’t sit beside Peggy like she had been, but kneels on the floor between her wife’s knees. She puts her hands on Peggy’s belly and speaks softly, “It’s getting late you two, time to settle down and give Mummy a break.” She starts to hum a tune as she slips her hands under Peggy’s shirt and starts rubbing small circles over her stretched, warm, skin. “Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you,  
but in your dreams whatever they be, dream a sweet little dream for me.”

The babies settled at the sound of their mama’s voice and their mummy relaxed, letting her head fall back against the sofa as her fingers found their way to Angie’s hair. “Thank you, my darling.” 

She had promised to stay home and rest as they waited out the last couple of weeks of her pregnancy, but Peggy couldn’t just sit around for long. She wanted to make sure that SHIELD would be alright while she was away, not that she had any doubts. She had left people she trusted and were loyal to her in place to take care of things during her absence. Sitting behind her desk, Peggy tried to ignore how uncomfortable her chair was as the armrests pressed into her massive belly. She was working on a few last minute details, and kept telling herself she would send for Jarvis after another five minutes. That had been going on for at least an hour at this point. She was just finishing her signature on one last set of orders when the whole base shook, startling her and setting off alarms. Peggy groaned as she rolled her eyes. Pushing herself out of her chair, which was a bit of a struggle these days, Peggy closed her file folder and waddled her way around her desk, across the room, and out of her office. 

The lab Peggy made her way to was as deep down into the compound as was possible. Stepping inside she took in the chaos and shook her head. “Dr. Pym.” 

A young brilliant man’s head snapped up, an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry Director. That was unexpected.”

“I would certainly hope it was unexpected.” Peggy scolded with her arms crossed over her enlarged chest. “I would be rather cross if you were trying to blow up my base on purpose.” 

“It won’t happen again, Director Carter.” Hank Pym replies. “Hopefully.” 

Peggy sighs. “Do try, Dr. Pym. I really don’t feel like explaining why my base is the center of seismic activity to the governor of New Jersey.” 

“Right. Sorry.” Pym says again. 

Peggy sighed in annoyance as she left the lab. “Scientists.” She mutters with a shake of her head as she takes the lift back up to her floor. The old lift rumbles and as it shutters to a stop Peggy goans. Her hand goes to her belly as a shape pain nearly knocks her off her feet. “It’s alright my darlings.” She tells the babies as she steadies herself. “Nothing to fuss about.” 

But it isn’t just that her Bunny and Little Lamb were startled and protesting. No, this was something different. Different enough that she asks Rose to find Jarvis and ask him to fetch the car. Different enough that she calls the workshop studio where Angie is working on a new project, and asks her to come home. Different enough that as soon as Angie arrives home, Peggy sends Jarvis to fetch the midwife. 

She had been shot, stabbed, even impaled, and none of it had prepared her for the kind of pain involved in labor and delivery. Peggy tried to bare it with as much dignity as she could muster, but as the hours went on, as she became more and more physically and emotionally exhausted, the harder it was for her to simply grit her teeth and bare it. 

“You’re doing splendidly, Peggy.” Patsy reassured as she signaled to Delia to help her get Peggy out of bed. “Not long now, sweets.” She said to Peggy before looking up at Delia. “Let's get Mum out of bed and moving a bit, shall we.” 

Once they have her stable on her feet they handed Peggy off to Angie, who holds her steady as they sway in place. Angie sang Gershwin to her, and Rodgers and Hammerstien, to distract her. When it was time to actually start pushing Angie settled in behind her, supporting her. She let Peggy grip painfully to her hand, and helped to brace her as she gently pushed when Patsy told her too. A strange sense of euphoria washes over Peggy just as Patsy announces that the baby is crowning. It gives her the will to push and the ability to ignore the pain as her child’s head and shoulders are pushed out. 

“Baby is born.” Patsy cheers. “Well done, Peggy, well done.” 

Peggy collapses back against Angie, spent, and weak. She holds her breath, excited and afraid until she hears her child cry and then the fear fades away. When Patsy holds the baby up tears well in Peggy’s eyes as she watches the baby flail it’s little arms and legs as it cries.

“You’ve a perfect little girl, Peggy.” Patsy says as she places the baby girl on Peggy’s chest. 

A daughter, she had a daughter. Peggy’s tears rolled down her sweaty, flushed, cheeks as her brown eyed gaze traced every inch of the newborn little girl in her arms. Peggy knew she was capable of great love, she knew it because every time she looked at Angie she felt it rush through her. But what she was feeling now, this incredible flood of emotion, was unlike anything she had ever felt before. “Hello my darling girl.” 

Angie was in awe. Seeing Peggy in so much discomfort and pain was breaking her heart, but watching her push past all of that and deliver the most amazing little life she had ever seen, that had not only soothed her heartache but flooded her with such love, devotion, and pride. “Look at her, Peggy. Look what you did. She’s beautiful.” 

They get nearly ten minutes to bond with their daughter before baby number two starts it’s way out. Delia takes their little girl for a proper wash and check up while the rest of them focus on delivering her sibling. 

“This time will be much easier, Peggy.” Patsy reassures. “You’re little girl has already paved the way for her sibling, so with your next contraction give me a gentle push.”

Baby number two did come a lot easier but it was still a lot of work, and by the end of it Peggy couldn’t even keep her head up. She let it fall back against Angie’s shoulder as her arms felt limp to her side. 

“It’s a complete set, Peggy.” Patsy tells them as she tends to the new arrival. “You have a son.” 

Angie can’t help but laugh. “Leave it to you to make sure we only gotta do this once, English.” 

They get the same chance to bond with their son while Patsy deals with the afterbirth, but then Delia takes him too for a proper wash and check up. When she returns she happily tells them both babies are healthy and perfect. Once Patsy is finished with Peggy and she’s settled into bed, she and Angie are left alone with their children. 

“They’re going to need names, Peg.” Angie says softly as her smokey blue eyed gaze shifted between the little girl in her arms and the little boy in Peggy’s. 

They had been debating names for weeks and had yet to settle on one they liked. Looking down at her son now, her mind replays how she got here, in her bed with the woman she loved and two beautiful children, and one person kept coming to mind. “When we first met I was dead set against letting anyone get close to me because I thought letting someone get close would put them in danger. Edwin reminded me that no one can live their life totally alone, and that everyone, no matter how strong they are, needed someone to lean on. I gave in shortly after that little lecture and moved in beside you at the Griffith.” Peggy’s voice is soft, her gaze lingering on her son who’s tiny hand was curled around the tip of her pinkie. “As badly as I wanted to come home after being in L.A. I wasn’t sure if I should. Edwin reminded me who I was saving the world for and sent me home to you.”

“He’s been an amazing friend over the years.” Angie agreed. “And he’s been really sweet your whole pregnancy.”

“So it’s settled then?” Peggy asks, looking up into Angie’s eyes. “We name our son Edwin?” 

Angie nods and grins a huge grin. “I think it’s perfect, and it means I have the perfect name for this little lady.” 

“If you say Margaret you can sleep on the sofa.” Peggy warns. “I don’t care if it’s only fair because men get to name sons after themselves.” 

“Elizabeth.” Angie says after sticking her tongue out at Peggy. “We both win, I get to name her after her mother, and you get to not name her Margaret.” 

Peggy laughs softly so she doesn’t startle their newborns. “I can agree to that.” 

Elizabeth Sofia Carter and Edwin Martin Montgomery Carter were their mothers' pride and joy, and the only reason Peggy and Angie ever got to see Edwin Jarvis cry.


	14. Interlude II

2016 

He was tired. Not physically thanks to the super soldier serum coursing through his veins, but in every other way Steve Rogers was tired. After discovering Bucky was still alive he and Sam spent every free moment looking for him. When he wasn’t looking for Bucky he was dealing with Avengers’ business and Stark’s misguided good intentions. Ultron still haunted Steve’s dreams. Dreams that had once been filled with fantasies about the life he had missed out on with Peggy, fantasies he could no longer justify having because he wouldn’t change the course of Peggy’s life even if he could. A life so full of love that it had given Steve hope that there might be something like that out there for him too. For the first time since waking up from the ice Steve was starting to think more about the present and the future rather than the past, and it was both exciting and terrifying.

Steve was weary and he knew just what he needed to help recharge before he had to strap on his shield again. An afternoon with his best girl and her best girl, and more stories about their life and love over good food and whiskey now that Peggy was back in her condo with her wife. Peggy still required a nursing assistant, but she was finally strong enough to live somewhat independently again. When Steve knocked on the door he smiled when Rosalie, Peggy and Angie’s nursing assistant, answered the door. He asked if the ladies were up for company and the young woman smiled at him as she invited him in. 

“They’re always up for seeing family, Captain Rogers.” Rosalie tells him. “Mrs. Carter is in her spot in the living room. Mrs. Martinelli-Carter is in the kitchen, which I should be getting back to before she tries to lift one of the cast irons off the stove on her own.” 

Steve chuckles softly as he watches the young woman rush off towards the kitchen while he hangs his coat by the door. Peggy’s spot was in the far corner of the living room near the french doors that opened onto a small patio enclosed by a low wall. The view beyond the low wall was of a small pond surrounded by benches and cherry blossom trees. A comfortable old leather wingback chair was positioned perfectly to allow Peggy to watch the room, gaze out at the view, and catch the late afternoon sun to read by. She would see him the moment he stepped around the corner, out of the entrance hall, and into the living room, but Steve stopped short of making that turn. Peggy was talking to someone in a low, gentle tone, that Steve wasn’t familiar with from her. It kind of reminded him of the way his mother used to talk to him, kind, caring, loving, but no nonsense. Peggy’s tone had only been part of the reason why Steve had stopped to listen. 

The other part was the fact that she was speaking in flawless Russian.It had been a long time since Steve had heard Peggy speak in a forgien language and for a moment he closed his eyes and let himself go back to another time, another place, another life. But then his eyes flew open and widened when a second voice, soft, vulnerable, familiar, responded in Russian. He doesn’t know what she’s saying, but he knows the tone of her voice. She’s as tired and weary as he was, perhaps more so because unlike him she must have also been feeling it more physically. Steve felt a sudden desire to walk in the room and pull her into a hug but he stopped himself when Peggy began to speak again. 

“Kotenok,” Peggy huffs out the nickname with affectionate exasperation. “How many times must I tell you to stop blaming yourself for that? You did everything you possibly could, you fought your hardest, and I am proud of you for it. Yes, SHIELD is wounded, my darling, but it is far from dead. I have faith in and trust the people I left in charge to see that it recovers from that son of a bitch and his manipulations. I never liked Alexander, I hope he’s rotting in hell.” 

There was a soft snort of laughter from the young woman sitting at Peggy’s feet with her head on Peggy’s lap. Peeking around the corner Steve watched as Peggy’s aged fingers gently combed through vibrate red hair. He then watched as two highly trained and experienced spies tensed up when they sensed his presence, and for a moment Captain America actually thought, ‘Shit’ and wished he had brought his shield. 

“Whoever’s leerking, we know you’re there.” Peggy says sharply. 

The young woman’s reaction is to leap to her feet and draw a gun which is aimed right where Steve steps out. His hands go up instantly. “Easy Nat, it’s just me.” 

“Natasha.” Peggy hisses scoldingly. “Put that away before your Nonna sees it.” 

“Before her Nonna sees what?” Angie asks as she steps out of the kitchen. “The gun she brings into my house like I don’t know she always has a weapon on her?” Angie snorts, and waves a hand dismissively in the air. “I’ve been married to a woman who never left the house without her thigh holster strapped on, and her dillinger with the mother of pearl handle for over sixty years. I know damn well Natasha and Sharon both come into my house armed.” When she spots Steve, Angie smiles. “Hiya Stevie, come for dinner? You picked a great night, we made Nat’s favorite, chicken parm.” 

Steve was more than a little confused. His gaze darted between the three women in the room before landing on Natasha, and before he could stop himself he asked, “Nat, what are you doing here?” 

“Visiting her grandmothers like a good girl should.” Angie answered for her. “Unlike Sharon, who hasn’t even given her poor old great-aunts a phone call in months. I’m pretty sure the brat is ignoring our texts too.” 

Natasha smirked. She knew the reason why Sharon had been avoiding Peggy and Angie, and he was standing only a few feet away. Sharon hadn’t wanted to lie to Peggy about babysitting Steve. Now however, Natasha was pretty sure Sharon was avoiding the guilt of what happened with SHIELD. She would have to have a word with the blonde when she got back to D.C.

Steve looked even more confused after Angie’s reply, and the smirk on Natasha’s lips that told him she knew more than he did. That wasn’t anything new, but he had thought they were past that. “Grandmothers? I don’t understand. Nat, when we were at Camp LeHigh you acted like you had no idea who Peggy was when you saw her picture on the wall.” 

Natasha smirked as she shrugged while retaking her place on the floor at Peggy’s feet. “I’m a Level Eight SHIELD operative, Steve, did you really think I wouldn’t know who Peggy Carter was? I was fucking with you, Rogers.”

Peggy reaches over and flicks Natasha's ear as she scolds her. “Natasha, language.” 

Natasha pouts and rubs her ear as she looks up at Peggy. “Prosti Babushka.”

“What to do with you my malen'kiy dikiy kotenok.” Peggy signs affectionately as she brushes at Natasha’s hair. 

“I’m not a feral kitten anymore, Baba.” Natasha continues to pout. 

“As adorable as I think you two are,” Angie says warmly and with amusement. “Poor soldier boy over here is still really confused, English.” 

Peggy laughs softly. “Steve, come in, sit down. Natasha, darling, be a dear and make us all some tea, please.” 

Sometimes it’s still hard for Steve to wrap his head around the fact that seventy years went on without him, and that there was a lot of life that could be lived in seventy years. As often as he came to visit with Peggy, and now Peggy and Angie, they had only gotten up to the 1960s. After the fall of McCarthy, who Steve would have very much liked to have punched in the nose, Peggy and Monty were free to divorce. After getting seriously wounded on a mission Monty retired from SHIELD and the Commandos and lived out his life in Amsterdam with his partner, Gunther. Edwin and Elizabeth knew him as their father, but he took on more of a doting uncle role in their lives. Every summer when the Martinelli-Carters would return to England to spend time with Peggy’s parents, and holiday in the country house Peggy had been gifted by her father, the children would spend a week or so with Monty at the Montgomery estate. 

Though they no longer had the federal government to worry about, Peggy and Angie still had to be very mindful of how they presented themselves and their family to the outside world. It wasn’t easy, and they hated having to teach their children to censor themselves around people who didn’t know the truth about their family, but it was something they had to do to keep everyone safe. Privately and amongst their most trusted family and friends, they were Mummy and Mama. Publicly, they were Mummy and Aunt Angie. Publicly Angie had, depending on which version of the story was floating around, either focused on her career for too long, or couldn’t have children of her own. So she lived with her divorced friend, and helped her with her two young children since their father lived in Europe. As hard as it was, as unfair as it was, Peggy and Angie had raised their children in a home full of love and laughter, hope and encouragement. They had raised their children well, had loved every moment of it, and had done it all together. 

Edwin was a true Martinelli in the kitchen, according to Peggy’s stories. He had a gift and passion for cooking that had taken him to culinary school, but he was also very practical like his English mother, which meant he also had a business degree. He used his skills to turn his father’s estate into a renown restaurant and hotel.

“After he moved to England, Eddie met this sweetheart of a girl, Susan.” Angie tells Steve who sits beside her on the sofa. His last two visits had been full of stories about the twins' childhood, the trouble they used to get into, their achievements, and the joy they had brought to their mothers’ lives. Now it seemed, he would hear what had become of them as adults, and as always he looked forward to the tales. After returning with tea, cookies, and a few bits of cake, Natasha settled back down on the floor beside Peggy. When Angie noticed Steve stealing glances at Natasha and her strange choice of places to sit when there was a loveseat and chairs, Angie explains in a soft whisper. “It’s her safe place, sitting beside Peggy, it always has been.” 

“Edwin and Susan have two sons.” Peggy continues as she absently caresses Natasha’s hair. “Ian, he works with Edwin at the hotel. And Martin, who is an officer in the royal air force.”

After tea Rosalie reminds Peggy that she needs to take her walk before dinner. Steve is about to offer to escort Peggy on her walk when Angie tries to intervene, asking if he might help her in the kitchen instead. She does this, not because she’s uncomfortable with Steve being alone with Peggy, that’s nonsense. She does it because she thinks Peggy wouldn’t want Steve seeing her use her cane, or her walker on bad days.

“Thank you for trying to protect my pride, my love.” Peggy says warmly, smiling at Angie with such love and devotion. “But I am a ninety-five year old woman who took a little more than a year to recover from breaking a hip. I use a cane now, I’ve come to terms with it.” She may have come to terms with it, but Peggy still made a face when she said, “Hand Baba her cane, Kitten.” 

“Alright,” Angie says as she watches Natasha fetch Peggy’s cane and help her out of her chair. “But I’m keeping Nat, she can help me in the kitchen. You’ve been monopolizing her all day.” 

As Peggy and Steve slowly and carefully make their way along the path around the pond Peggy tells Steve of her daughter’s life. “Lizzy traveled whenever she had the chance. She studied abroad for a year, majored in English Lit at Cambridge. She’s now a tenured professor.” Peggy said proudly. Peggy always lights up in the most beautiful way when she speaks of her family, and it’s easy to see that even though it wasn’t easy for her, for them, her family was her greatest joy. “Her husband Benjamin, good man, is a maths professor. They have three children, all named after a character from a book. Helen is an artist and historian, she’s a curator with the Smithsonian, and is currently in Germany working on a memorial project. Christphor makes those computer games everyone is so fond of these days. He wants to make one based on the Commandos, ya know, only his lead character is a woman. And Darcy, she’s our youngest, she’s working on her PhD in political science.” 

Over dinner, with Peggy sitting at the head of the table, she continues, seemingly finally getting around to why Natasha called her and Angie her grandmothers. “We really liked having children around, but as they do, our babies grew up. They built lives of their own, and we were left behind to longed for little ones again.” 

“I wasn’t little.” Natasha huffed from her place across from Steve. “I was seventeen.” 

“You were fifteen.” Peggy replied in a tone that said this was an old ongoing argument. “And I haven’t gotten to you yet, malen'kiy dikiy kotenok, now hush. Stubborn child.” 

“If you’re starting where I think you’re starting, I’m staying the night, cause it’ll be midnight before you get to me.” Natasha teased. “And Steve’ll be an old man. He’s already a fossil.” 

“Cheeky.” Peggy scolds teasingly and then says something to Natasha in Russian that makes the woman blush and slightly squirm in her seat.

The more Steve watches Peggy and Natasha interact the more impatient he becomes to understand their relationship. “So, what did the 70s have in store for you?” 

Angie smiles, “Our godson.” 

Natasha snickers and smirks at Steve. She can’t wait to see his reaction to this reveal. It might even be better than when he finds out the nurse next door that he was crushing on wasn’t just an undercover agent, but Peggy’s niece. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peggy in google translated Russian: “Kitten” 
> 
> Natasha in google translated Russian: “Sorry Grandmother” 
> 
> Peggy in google translated Russian: "Little feral kitten."


	15. Chapter 15

** The 70s: Tony **

Peggy had been worried about Howard pretty consistently since 1945. He had always enjoyed a good drink, and good company in his bed, but after they’d lost Steve those kinds of behaviors had really ramped up. SHIELD had given him some focus, but outside of SHIELD his obsessive behaviors continued, be it the drinking, the sex, or the never ending expeditions to find Steve. While she had settled down with Angie, it had been nearly twenty years since they’d first said vows to one another on a Cape Cod beach in the moonlight, and had two children who were now teenagers, Howard had remained a billionaire playboy. Peggy loved Howard like a brother, and she just wanted him to know the kind of happiness and love that she had with Angie, but for the longest time it seemed as if it just wasn’t in the cards for him. 

And then a few years ago while attending a performance at Lincoln Center Howard met Maria Collins Carbonell, a young pianist and singer. He had been captivated by her, but Maria wasn’t the type of woman who would fall at Howard’s feet and worship him and his money. Maria was smart, and independent, and focused on building her career. For the first time Howard had to prove himself and work for a chance at spending time with her. Peggy had watched him try and court Maria, and she could see that this was different than anything he’d had with anyone else before. Howard could charm just about anyone into his bed, but wooing a woman who was settling into his heart, that had been a bit of a struggle. Peggy had found it both comforting and amusing. 

Howard and Maria were married in a lavish ceremony that was very traditional except for one thing. Howard’s best man had been Peggy, and she had been more than happy to do it. She had worried he would never find love, but he had, and he had found it in a good woman who could handle Howard Stark in a way that relieved not only Peggy but Jarvis as well. Maria loved Howard, flaws and all, and Peggy loved her for it. 

The Starks weren’t in a hurry to have children. Howard was still getting used to being a married man, he still worked too much, and just didn’t feel ready. Maria had to learn to be a socialite wife, while also trying to maintain her career in music. If it happened, it happened, they weren’t going to worry over it just yet. When it did happen, when Maria told Howard she was pregnant, years into their marriage, Howard had been flooded with joy and terror. After celebrating the good news with his wife, a frazzled Howard had shown up on Peggy’s doorstep. Howard showing up at her door needing to talk wasn’t anything new, but in this case Howard had flown to England and driven out to her country house where she was spending a month with Angie and the children.

Elizabeth Carter had her mother’s chestnut brown hair which she wore long, nearly to her waist, and Peggy’s big brown doe eyes, and bright dimpled smile. She was tall and slender like her father, she didn’t have any of Peggy’s curves, no matter how much her Ma tried to feed her. Elizabeth, or Lizzy as she was called, came into the house to get another pitcher of lemonade to carry out to the old clay tennis court where she and her Mum were currently royally beating her Ma and brother in doubles, when she heard a frantic pounding on the old wooden front door. They didn’t get many visitors here, her grandparents or her uncle Michael would stop over on occasion, so her curiosity was piqued as to who would be beating down their door. 

“Uncle Howard?” Elizabeth is more than a little surprised to see the man standing on the other side of the door after she pulls it open. 

Howard smiled awkwardly. “Hiya Lizzy doll, you’re mom home?” 

The teen nodded and invited him in. “I’ll fetch her.” She tells him before heading out back to where her family was resting between matches. “Mom,” Eddie and Lizzy were American children and had therefore picked up the O rather than the U, when addressing Peggy. It had been something she’d had to get used too. “Uncle Howard’s here.” 

“No!” Angie says to her wife sharply. “Margaret.” 

Peggy holds her hands up. “If it’s work I’ll send him packing, darling. I promised, and I intend to keep it. No work while we are here. Ever.”

When Peggy had walked into the living room of her English home, Howard hadn’t even given her a chance to say, hello what the hell are you doing here, before he launched into why he was there. “Maria’s pregnant, Peg! What am I gonna do with a kid?!” She, and eventually Angie, spend the rest of the day reassuring Howard. They remind him that he’s matured, and that he and Maria will be doing this together, that they’re a team and that they will have plenty of support. 

“How am I supposed to help take care of a baby?” Howard sighed. “Hell, Peggy wouldn’t even let me hold the twins, she knew I’d drop ‘em.” 

“That was fifteen years ago, Howard.” Peggy put her hand on his shoulder. “You’re not the same man.” 

Peggy remembered what that kind of fear and uncertainty felt like. The never ending worry about whether or not you’re going to be a good parent. She still has those concerns. Was she a good mother? Was she giving Elizabeth and Edwin everything they needed from her? Was she raising them right? She used that to help reassure Howard as best she could over the months that followed. 

The morning of May 29th Peggy is at the kitchen table with her family as they eat breakfast and talk about their weekend plans. When the phone rang Elizabeth jumped up to answer it but Angie grabbed her by the collar and told her to sit and finish her breakfast. It was Jarvis, Maria had gone into labor early that morning. Howard wanted them to stop by the hospital when they could make it. Angie says she’ll meet Peggy there at lunchtime. Peggy arrives first and heads up to Maria’s room. When she reaches the room, the door is ajar and she can hear Howard’s voice. 

“I can count the number of people who think I’m worth a damn on one hand.” Howard said softly beyond the door. “You’re mother, god help her, loves me. The Jarvises, closest things I got to parents, really, which is weird cause we’re all basically the same age. Just goes to show how messed up your old man is, kid.” There’s a pause, a soft sigh, and then Howard speaks again. “And then there’s Peggy, who has put up with me and my crap for several decades at this point. She’s the best pal a Stark could ever have, kid, and that’s why I need you to be your most charming so when I ask her to be your godmother she’ll say yes, because she and Angie will look out for you, protect you, love you. Even,” Howard’s voice cracks. “Even if I’m the one they have to protect you from.” 

Peggy closes her eyes and reigns in her emotions. Howard must be thinking of his own father, and his fears that he’ll be just like him. She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and then smiles as she knocks on the door and calls out a gentle. “Hello?” 

“Come in!” Comes Howard’s soft reply. 

When she pushes open the door and steps in Peggy sees Howard standing by the window with a small bundle wrapped in a blue blanket, and her heart swells. 

“Peg!” Howard’s excitement surges but he keeps his voice low so as to not wake Maria. “Come in. There’s somewhere here who would like to meet you.” 

Peggy’s smile is big and bright as she walks over to Howard and his son. “And who do we have here?” 

Howard shifts the baby from his arms to Peggy’s easily. “Anthony Edward Stark, meet Peggy Carter, my best pal, and your godmother.” He looks up from his son to meet Peggy’s eyes. “If you’ll agree to it, that is. What do ya say, Pegs?”

“I would be honored, Howard.” Peggy says easily. She smiles at her friend and then lets her gaze fall to the baby in her arms. The baby has dark hair, and Howard’s nose, and when he yawns in his sleep Peggy’s heart melts. “Oh Howard, he’s marvelous, the best thing you’ve ever done for sure.” 

Tony was a remarkable child. He was smart, creative, and very sweet. When he was small Howard was wonderful with him, but as Tony got older Howard struggled more and more with being an active father. Howard started to focus more and more on Stark Industries, leaving SHIELD mostly in her hands, and Tony in Maria’s. When Tony built his first circuit board when he was four, Howard started talking about needing a plan for his son, and about leaving him a legacy that would be more useful to him than Howard taking the boy to the circus. 

It was Tony’s fifth birthday and all he’d wanted was to go to the circus with his parents. Howard had agreed at first, even bought the best tickets and agranged for Tony to go behind the scenes, but when the day came he was out of the country because he needed to jump on a deal before a competitor did. Maria did her best to try and cheer her son up, but Tony’s little heart was broken. 

“I don’t know what else to do, Peggy.” Maria’s voice was thick and her eyes glassy with tears. “I can’t even get him out of his room.” 

Peggy took the other mother’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Let me see what I can do, Maria.” 

There was a special knock at his bedroom door and despite his sad, disappointed mood, Tony brightened at the sound of it. “Aunt Peggy!” Rushing over to the door he knocked his half of the special knock, and then waited for Peggy’s reply before opening the door and shouting once again, “Aunt Peggy!” 

Peggy scooped the boy up into her arms and peppered his face with kisses. “Happy birthday, my darling.” 

“You ‘membered!” Tony brightened as he wrapped his arms around Peggy’s neck.

Did Tony think Howard forgot? Was that better or worse than him knowing Howard had chosen to leave for work knowing what he would be missing? Peggy’s heart was breaking, while her anger at Howard simmered in her belly. “Of course I remembered, darling. Aunt Angie and I are here to go to the circus with you and Mama. And guess what?” 

“What?” Tony replies as he pulls back a bit to look into Peggy’s eyes, but keeps his arms around her neck as if he were afraid she’d leave him if he let her go.

“Aunt Angie has a surprise for you in the kitchen.” Peggy smiles lovingly at him as she hugs him tight in her arms. 

Tony gasps, his brown eyes grow wide, and he licks his lips. “Birthday cannoli?”

Peggy laughs brightly at the sure look of joy on the boy’s face. She nods and says, “Birthday cannoli!” 

She carries him downstairs, and he chatters quickly in her ear, telling her about all the things he’s been doing lately. Angie kisses his face all over just as Peggy had when they enter the kitchen and then she gives him his cannoli. They all go to the circus, and Tony has a wonderful time, even after Aunt Peggy scolds him, “Anthony Stark do not stick your fingers in the tiger cage!” while they’re behind the scenes. Jarvis has made him his favorite dinner and Ana’s made him a cake, which they all enjoy when they get home. Maria gives her son a bath, and Peggy puts him to bed, reading to him from their favorite book. It’s the first of many birthdays Tony will spend that way, with his mother, the Jarvises, Aunt Angie and Aunt Peggy, but no Howard. 

It’s the start of summer and the Carter twins are coming home from their university studies for summer break. Peggy is trying to wrap a few things up for work before she and her family head for their annual six weeks in England. She has a stack of things she needs Howard to sign off on, things he should have signed ages ago, and needed to be settled before she can leave. So she decides to stop at the Stark mansion after picking up her son from the airport. She can hear Howard’s raised voice before she even reaches the door of his study. His words are slurred, he’s been drinking heavily from the sounds of it, and it’s not even three in the afternoon yet. Just as she reaches the door she hears Howard mention Captain America and she flinches as she pushes open the door. 

“Captain America is stupid!” Eight year old Tony yells at his father as tears roll down his flushed cheeks as he picks up several sheets of notebook paper and a green folder. He had written his school report on Nikolaus Otto and had wanted to show his father. Howard had told him to do it on Captain America, but Tony liked engineers, and wanted to do his report on one of his favorites. With his report gathered up and clutched to his chest Tony looks at Howard, looks him right in the eyes and says, “I hate Captain America! And I hate you!” 

Howard raises his hand to strike his son but a firm, hard, painful grip suddenly wraps around his wrist. Peggy locks eyes with Howard. Her gaze is hard and her brown eyes flicker with fire. Her voice however is gentle as she says, “Tony darling, Eddie is in the kitchen with Ana. Why don’t you go see him, hmm? I heard Ana telling him she’d just taken some chocolate chip biscuits out of the oven. Best hurry before Eddie gables them all up.”

It takes a moment, Tony is frozen in place with a look of fear on his chubby baby face, but then he takes a step back from his father and nods. “Ok Aunt Peggy.” 

Peggy’s grip on Howard tightens as she waits for the sound of Tony’s footsteps in the hallway to fade. When she speaks her voice is low, almost a growl, and dangerous. “If you ever strike that boy, Howard, I will break your fucking arm.” 

“You don’t have a right to tell me how I can discipline my kid, Peggy.” Howard snarls drunkenly. 

She winces his arm in a way that causes him pain. “You weren’t about to spank the boy, Howard, you were about to beat him. You were one backhand away from crossing a line that turns you into your father. Is that what you want Howard? To be the kind of father yours was?” 

That shocked Howard enough to sober him up a little. “No. No, Peg, of course not. I would never, I…”

“Nearly did.” Peggy hisses at him. “If I hadn’t been here Howard.” She jerks on his arm, forcing him to look at her hand wrapped around his wrist, and she watched the horror cross his face as he realised he’d nearly backhanded Tony. He deflates and she lets him go. “Where’s Maria?” 

“In bed.” He tells her. “One of her headaches.” 

Headaches, right. Peggy sighs and wonders which combination of pills was causing this particular headache. “I’m taking Tony to England with me. You have six weeks to get yourself together, Howard. Check Maria into Betty Ford, check yourself into Betty Ford, that boy needs at least one of you to be capable of taking care of him. And Howard,” She hisses, “If I ever find out that you’ve beat that child, I will take him away from you permanently.” 

“You can’t do that, Carter.” Howard growls. “He’s my son! My heir!” 

“Watch me.” She warns him with a look that actually makes him stagger back in fear. 

Peggy sits at the table near the window arranging wildflowers and sun flowers picked from around her countryside cottage. Angie is in the kitchen baking with their son, their daughter was sunbathing in the yard, and Tony had been in the parlor drawing what looked like schematics of some kind. It was a perfectly peaceful sunny summer day in the English countryside. Untill…

“Tony!” Elizbath’s voice cut through the quiet. “Mom!”

The shrill tone of her daughter’s voice let Peggy know that Elizabeth wasn’t frighted or concerned, but rather annoyed and a bit whiny. With a soft sigh Peggy gets up, abandoning her flowers, and walks through the house to the parlor. “Really Elizabeth,” She scolds as soon as she lays eyes on her daughter. “You’re far too old to be shirking through the house like a banshee, you’re not twelve you know. Now, what is the matter?”

Elizabeth, who’d just returned from studying abroad in Japan and had spent the last few days doing nothing but talking about a young man she’d met while there, pointed at the coffee table. While in Tokyo she’d bought a new personal portable music device, a walkman, that had yet to debut in the west. It had not been a cheap purchase, though cheaper than it would be when it hit the U.S. market in a year at $150. The device now sat in pieces on the coffee table alongside what looked to be the magnetic tape and casing of a cassette tape.

“Oh dear.” Peggy says when she sees the remains spread out over the surface of the coffee table along with a screwdriver and pliers, that she’s honestly not even sure how Tony managed to find. “Where did he go?” 

“Out the back.” Elizabeth huffs. 

Peggy nods. “Just leave it be, darling. I’m sure he’ll be able to put it back together.” 

It’s not hard to find Tony. He had a favorite tree he liked to sit under, one far enough from the house to give him space, but not so far that he got in trouble for wandering into the woods alone. Peggy hangs back for a moment to watch him, his knees drawn to his chest, his head resting on them. He doesn’t seem to be crying but she can tell he’s tense and unsure. She sighs softly. Damnit, Howard, she thinks before walking over to her godson. She doesn’t say anything, she simply holds out her hand when he looks up at her, and when he takes it she feels instant relief. With Tony’s little hand held in her own, she leads him back towards the house and to one of the wicker sun loungers set out in the open grass just off the stone patio. Peggy sits down and stands Tony in front of her. 

“Anthony, what’s my rule about tinkering?” Peggy says firmly but gently as she holds the boy’s hands in her own and looks into his big brown eyes. 

“To ask permission unless it’s in the big crate in the garage.” Tony answers softly. 

They kept an old wooden produce crate in their garage at home for old electronics and other such junk just for Tony so situations like this didn’t happen. They started doing it when the boy was five and had dismantled Angie’s record player and her favorite hair dryer while she’d been making dinner. Bringing Tony to England with them had been such a last minute decision they hadn’t had time to prepare for him.

“You have a wonderfully curious mind that craves more and more understanding of how your world works, my boy.” Peggy tells Tony as she lets go of one of his hands so she can brush at his hair. “And that’s a marvelous thing to have, Tony. But,” She taps the tip of his nose to keep him focused on her. “You must learn restreint, and to respect boundaries, Anthony. You must learn to control your impulses, do not allow them to get the better of you.” 

Otherwise, Peggy feared Tony would end up like Howard. 

Inside the house Angie stands beside her daughter and watches her wife scolding their godson for a moment before saying. “Come help us in the kitchen, Lizzy.” 

“What happened at Howard’s?” Elizabeth asked, not moving, her gaze still on her mother and Tony. “Something’s felt off since we got here. She isn’t exactly treating him with kid gloves, cause lord knows she can scold a kid into tears, but she’s hesitant. If that had been me or Ed who busted something up like that, Mom would have popped us on the ass at least once by now.” 

Angie sighed softly. Details didn’t need to be shared, but she could tell Elizabeth was concerned so she admitted, “Howard has demons, Lizzy, and he very nearly let those demons get the best of him. 

“Oh.” Elizabeth replies sadly. 

“Come on, let's give them some privacy.” Angie puts her hand on her daughter’s back and steers her towards the kitchen. Ten minutes or so later a teary eyed Tony comes in to apologize to Elizabeth. He promises to try and fix the walkman and to ask Jarvis to replace it. Elizabeth forgives him, and hugs him tight. 

Peggy sighs softly as she stands beside her wife. “I’ll take him into the village tomorrow to the junk shop, get him some things that will keep him occupied.” 

Howard only ever crosses that line once in Tony’s life. When Tony is a teenager and they’re both drunk. When Peggy finds out, she surprises Tony at school with a care package she and Angie put together and sees the result, she heads right for Howard and slaps him so hard he falls on his ass. 

Throughout Tony’s life Peggy and Angie do their best to be a constant and stable presence for him. Especially after Howard and Maria’s deaths. It wasn’t always easy. Sometimes Tony would cling to them like a boy drowning in an overwhelming world. At other times he would try to push them away, distance himself from them and the Jarvises, but they were having none of it. 

Tony looks up when the cell door is opened and his heart drops to his stomach when he sees the figure standing there. He stands, wobbies a little from the remaining alcohol in his system, and rubs the back of his neck as he tries to smile a charming smile. “Hi Aunt Peg.” 

Peggy shakes her head disappointedly. “Anthony.” 

The young man drops his head as he shuffles on his feet. He was wearing one dirty canvas sneaker and the sight made him blink. Where was his other shoe? “Sorry Aunt Peg.” 

“Lets go.” Peggy replies simply. 

After they collect his things from the desk, no missing shoe though, they head out to Peggy’s car. Tony doesn’t say much at first, he just sits in the passenger seat with his head on the window and his eyes closed. He can’t remember a damn thing from the night before, or at least nothing after that fourth round of body shots off that tattooed brunette. “One of these days Aunt Peg,” He finally says when he’s sure he can speak without puking. “You’re going to get tired of bailing me out.” 

“I’m never going to turn my back on you, Tony.” Peggy replies. “No matter what you do.” 

For most of Tony’s adult life he walked a tightrope and the only thing that kept him from falling off into the oblivion of his worst self, was the stubborn death grip his Aunt Peggy had on him. Tony did end up falling, pushed off balance in a desert cave, and because of the people who loved him, he fell the right way. 

After the terrifying few weeks of not knowing what had happened to Tony, Peggy and Angie were trying to get back to a somewhat normal routine now that he was home safe and sound. So they’d had dinner at Peggy’s favorite English pub, went to bingo, and were now home setting in to watch the evening news. Angie wasn’t really paying attention to the television, but then she felt Peggy go stiff beside her, and she looked up and over at her wife “English?” 

Peggy’s gaze was firmly locked on the screen where the newscaster was recapping something. Tony’s picture was on screen, and then it shifted to a video clip from a press conference he’d held earlier that day. 

“I am Iron Man.” Tony says from the television.

“He’s what?!” Peggy shouts. 

“English,” Angie says as she puts her hand on her wife’s thigh. “Mind your blood pressure.” 

“Sob my bloody blood pressure, Angela!” Peggy replies. “Tony just admitted to being the one inside that tin can that’s been flying all over the place playing vigilante!” 

Angie stares at her wife with a raised brow. “And this surprises you? You’ve been a positive beacon in that boy’s life since the day he was born, and when he is finally forced to choose his way in life, you’re surprised he chose to be a hero?”

Peggy sighed and shook her head with a soft grown. “He’s going to need guidance or he’s going to get himself killed.” 

“Good thing he has you then.” Angie smiles at her wife while patting her thigh. 

“I’m getting too old for this.” Peggy replies which makes her wife laugh.

Fury recruits Tony for his Avengers initiative and Peggy worries. Then again Peggy had worried about and fussed over Tony Stark since 1970 because she loved him. Tony, like his father before him, was a complicated man with demons, but Tony was better than his father in so many ways. And that, according to Tony, was because of her.


	16. Chapter 16

** 1980s: Sharon **

The first thing Michael did after being released from federal custody was ask Sharon Phillips to marry him, and of course Sharon had said yes. They were married in a small protestant church surrounded by family and friends. For the most part it had been a lovely gathering. Harrison and Amanda had come over from England to see their son get married, and to visit with their grandchildren. Things between Peggy and her mother were strained because Amanda was upset over Peggy’s divorce, but they managed to keep the tension at bay until after the wedding. A year ago there had been riots over the summer after a raid on a bar in the village called Stonewall. People like Peggy, Angie, Monty, and Howard had had enough of being abused and cast aside, and were done hiding in the shadows and in closets. They had found their voices and were now using them to demand they be seen as people with the basic human right to love and live the way nature had intended them too. So after her brother and new sister-in-law had gone off on their honeymoon, with Angie’s support and her father’s silent encouragement, Peggy told her mother the truth. Her marriage to Monty had been a lie, and she had been in a romantic relationship with Angie for twenty years. 

“Bloody hell Margaret, I’m your mother, do you honestly think I didn’t know who you had made a life with? Do you think I couldn’t see the love and devotion between you and Angela?” Amanda replied after Peggy’s big reveal. “You think me so backwards and daft, my girl? I just wish you had kept up the pretense of an actual marriage, if not for your own image, than your childrens’.” 

Peggy had been honestly surprised, though she wasn’t sure why. Angie’s family had silently accepted them since partially day one. Her father had also silently accepted Peggy’s love for Angie. Why hadn’t she trusted her mother’s love of her enough to think Amanda would as well? And then she remembered an old conversation she’d had with her aunt. “Times are changing, Mum. It’s not like when you and Aunt Phyllis were children, or even like when Angie and I were children. I don’t need to be married to a man, real or otherwise, to protect me, or validate me, or simply to keep up appearances. All I need is what I already have, my wife, my children, and I hope my family.” 

“Don’t be such a moppet, Margaret.” Amanda huffs. “You’re my daughter.”

Helping her mother through the changing times would come in handy seventeen years later when Michael’s only child, his daughter Allison, got pregnant while working in the catskills the summer before her senior year of high school. Allison names her daughter Sharon after her mother who they’d lost to breast cancer when Allison was fifteen, and Michaela after her father who did his best to be there for her through it all. Peggy and Angie did what they could to help as well so that Allison could finish high school and then go on to college. They gladly babysat Sharon while Allison was in class or working, and Peggy quickly learned what it was like to have her own little duckling following her around. 

When Sharon was little they made a game out of the fact that she liked to be wherever Peggy was. Peggy would take odd or out of the way paths through the Washington D.C. apartment she and Angie lived in when they were in the capital after Peggy and Howard had moved SHIELD HQ to D.C., or through the house and yard of their Seneca Falls home, which forced the little girl to find creative ways to get to her. When Elizabeth was little her favorite thing was to snuggle up with Peggy as she read from one of her favorite adventure books. Sharon’s favorite thing was to act out Peggy’s favorite adventure books.

“Sharon Carter.” Angie scolds gently as she walks out of the kitchen and into the dining room to find their three year old niece standing on her dining room table. “What do you think you’re doing up there?” 

Sharon, her sandy blonde hair pulled back into a braid, one strap of her Osh Gosh purple overalls undone, her tiny bare feet with their tiny purple painted nails slapping against the polished wood, pointed to her aunts’ two dogs. Sage was Basil’s granddaughter, and an eager young dog willing to go along with anything in a calm joyful manner. Cinnamon was a labradoodle pup they’d gotten after losing Sage’s mother’s Nutmeg, and was a bundle of energy. Both dogs were standing by the head of the table, which was missing it’s chair. “Dragons, Auntie Angie.” 

“Dragons?” Angie tried hard not to smirk at the toddler’s seriousness. 

“Mmmhmm.” Sharon bobs her little blonde head. 

“And what are the dragons hiding in their cave under the table?” Angie asks the girl, who she is just now realizing, is wielding a shield but no sword. 

“Auntie Peggy.” Sharon replies. 

Angie had to bite her lip. “English, are you under the table?” 

“No.” Came Peggy’s accented reply. “I’m in a cave waiting to be rescued, so do stop questioning my knight in shining overalls, my knees are killing me.” 

There was no holding back her laughter now. Shaking her head as she continues to chuckle, Angie helps Sharon down off the table and then tells her to wait a moment and she gets something to distract the dragons so she can rescue her Aunt Peggy. She disappears back into the kitchen and returns a moment later with two milk bones dog treats. After Peggy is rescued from the cave under the dining room table, Angie shakes her head at her. “One of these days she’s gonna crack her head open climbing over the furniture like a billy goat, and you’re going to have to explain it to Allie.” 

Sharon never gets hurt playing with her aunts but she does get incredibly hurt when she’s outed by her best friend after the other girl finds out that Sharon has a crush on her. Unsure if her mother will understand Sharon seeks out the one person she knows will understand, and who will make her feel safe again. She knows that her Aunt Peggy does important work for the United Nations, but Sharon doesn’t know where her aunt works. She does however know where her Aunt Angie works, so she leaves school and makes her way to the little theater that her aunt’s theater group worked out of. 

Angie is on stage helping a couple of new kids to the group through their scene when Sharon arrives. When she sees her niece’s blotchy, red, tear streaked face she tells everyone to go home for the day, and then takes Sharon up to her office. Sharon isn’t very chatty about what’s upset her until they get back to the apartment and Peggy arrives home after Angie calls her. Sharon tells them what happened and the pair do their best to reassure and support her. 

“Not everyone will be accepting of who you are, Sharon.” Peggy warns the girl gently. “There will be people, shitty horrible people, who will look down on you, condemn you, but you must always remember that their issues with who you are, are their issues and not yours.” She presses a kiss to Sharon’s temple as she cuddles her on the sofa. “It won’t always be easy, but you must always be true to yourself, and to who you are, Sharon. Don’t ever let anyone force you into being anything or anyone you’re not.” 

With her aunts by her side Sharon tells her mother and Allison is supportive of her daughter, just as Peggy said she would be. What Allison wasn’t so supportive of, was Sharon's interest in following in Peggy’s footsteps. While Sharon didn’t know details of her aunt’s work, she knew it was intelligence based and important. She knew that her aunt helped keep the world safe. And she knew that she wanted to have that kind of purpose in the world as well. So Sharon worked hard in school, top marks in her classes, best in athletics, and extracurriculars that would look good to recruiters in the intelligence fields. 

Graduation was approaching quickly and Sharon would soon have degrees in her double majors of Sociology and International Studies, with a minor in Computer Science. Since she was graduating from Stanford Summa Cum Laude, she had several recruiters trying to grab her attention. Including, and she found this amusing, Stark Industries. But she didn’t want to work for some international company, that had not been her goal. She had wanted to grab the attention of the American and British intelligence agencies. Maybe she should have done ROTC after all? But honestly, she hadn’t had any extra time for herself over the last four years, she didn’t know where she’d have fit it in and still slept. 

Sleep was a good thing, Sharon was looking forward to sleep, all she had to do was make it to her mother’s apartment now that she was back in Virginia for Spring Break. She was really looking forward to spending the next week with her mom and hopefully driving up to D.C. to see her aunts. The thought of her aunts made Sharon’s stomach growl and she blushed a little as she looked around to see if any of the other disembarking passengers heard it. Her mother could cook well enough to keep her alive, but her aunts, Peggy’s roasts or Angie’s anything, that’s what homesick little girls dream of. 

Sharon was so lost in the prospect of warm sugary zeppole that she almost didn’t sense the man creeping up on her. Almost. She reached quickly and on instinct, grabbing hold of the man’s wrist before his arm was fully extended in her direction. In one fluid motion she had the man on his back on the parking garbage pavement with a purse taser trained on him.

“Sharon Carter,” The man said easily. “Agent Coulson,” He paused to fick his hand to his right. Sharon caught sight of an Asian woman standing nearby, a slight smirk on her lips. “Agent May. We’re with SHIELD. We’ve been sent to retrieve you and take you to your appointment.” 

“SHIELD? What’s SHIELD?” Sharon questioned, her gaze darting between the two with her finger on the trigger of her taser. “I don’t have any appointments.” 

“If you’ll let me get up?” Coulson says easily. He smiles when she backs off, but keeps the taser in hand. He straightens his suit and hears May snicker. 

“I told you not to sneak up on her.” May tells him. 

He scowls at her and then softens his expression when he looks at Sharon again. “I’m going to reach into my jacket for my i.d.” He tells her before doing just that and showing her his identification. “Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division, or SHIELD for short. We’re an independent intelligence agency in partnership with the United Nations, and you, Sharon Michaela Carter, caught our eye. Our Director would like to have a word with you, and we’d be glad to take you to that meeting.” 

“I’m not going anywhere with a couple of strangers from what sounds like a made up agency.” Sharon says firmly

“I told you that wouldn’t work.” May says as she pulls a card from her jacket pocket. “You watch too many spy movies.” Turning her attention on Sharon she holds out the card. “The FBI, CIA, MI5, they ain’t got nothing on us. You wanted noticed, you got noticed. Be here at three o’clock.” 

Of course Peggy has doubts about bringing Sharon into her world. Her world is dangerous, and Peggy only ever wanted to keep her loved ones safe and sound, and as fair away from SHIELD as she could keep them. But Sharon had set her sights on this line of work all on her own, without any direct influence from Peggy, and she would be damned if any of those other agencies got a hold of her. If Sharon wanted to become an agent, she would become one of Peggy’s, and honestly with her retirement looming ahead of her, Peggy really liked the idea of having a Carter in SHIELD after she was gone. 

Sharon shows up at three and is escorted to the top of the tall building she had always known was there but never gave much thought to. The Triskelion, according to Coulson who was taking her up to meet with whoever she was meeting with, was impressive and overwhelming. As they moved from the parking lot the man at the guarded bridge gate directed her too, to the building itself, and through the lobby past the large open winged bird statue, Agent Coulson was explaining the agency to her. There was a lot of pride in his voice as he told her what they did and what their purpose was. In the lift on their way up to the top floor, Sharon took in the view as Coulson continued to talk, she was only half paying attention as she tried to sort out her own thoughts and feelings, but then he said something that sounded familiar and it made her snort. 

“Something funny Miss. Carter?” Agent Coulson asked. 

“No, sorry.” Sharon replies, blushing a bit. “It’s just what you just said about finding purpose, it’s something my aunt says to me all the time.”

Coulson smirks. “You’re aunt sounds very wise.” 

“I think she is.” Sharon smiles warmly. 

Coulson escorted her into an outer office and told her to wait. It was another agent who opened the doors to the inner office and told Sharon to go in. Sharon had no idea what to expect but finding her aunt sitting behind the large desk in the room wasn’t even close to being on any kind of list. “Aunt Peggy?” 

“Hello darling.” Peggy stands to greet her niece. “And it’s Director Carter here, dear.” 

Sharon would need to take the entrance exams to get into one of the academies, but she wouldn’t have wanted to get into SHIELD any other way. She wanted to be a SHIELD agent more than anything now that she knew about Peggy’s connection to it, but she also wanted to succeed on her own merits. Which she does. Agent 13 makes a name for herself as one of SHIELD’s best, and Peggy couldn’t be more proud. When Peggy finally retires, she feels reassured knowing that Sharon is there and that someday her niece will carry on her legacy.


	17. Chapter 17

** 1990s: Natasha  **

Much to her surprise, retirement agreed with Peggy. She loved having more time with Angie, their twins, their grandchildren, and now even great grandchildren. She loved the fact that she and Angie got to travel more, and marveled at the fact that she could go to a city she’d been to a dozen times over because of work, Berlin, Budapest, Vienna, even Paris, and experience it as if for the first time because she was there with her love for pleasure and enjoyment. Peggy, as it turns out, loves being in her garden tending to her violets, and roses, and her orchids. But Peggy was also still Peggy and she could not indulge in leisure every moment of every day, so she agreed to work with historians and museum curators to put together an exhibit featuring Captain America and the Howling Commandos. She was also working on her memoirs, which Angie and their children insisted people would be interested in. 

Sitting behind her desk in her study at their home in Seneca Falls, Peggy ignores the brand new iBook, a gift from Tony, that sits on her desk, and instead continues to work at her old reliable typewriter. She’s currently working on the chapter about her time at Bletchley Park, and is lost a bit in the memories of that young girl who had no idea what lay ahead of her. Peggy is drawn out of her memories by the doorbell. Standing, she takes off her glasses and sets them on her desk before she stretches out with a bit of a groan. Then she makes her way toward the front of the house, with Hazelnut their latest labradoodle and Clove the corgi their first foray into a small dog, at her heels. They aren’t expecting anyone so she’s curious as to who it could be. “Angie,” She calls out to her wife who is probably in the kitchen. “Have you been internet shopping again?” The bell rings again. “I’m coming!” She shouts, and then continues, “I’m not about to open the door to fifteen more parcels of cook books am I?” 

There were three parcels of potential cook books and one Nicholas J. Fury Jr. waiting on her doorstep. She smiled warmly at her former protege and successor, but the smile faded when she really took in the look on the current Director of SHIELD’s face. “Come in, Nicholas. Tell me what’s happened and how I can help.” 

Angie walked into the living room from the other side just as Peggy and Fury were coming in from the foyer. “Who was at the door, English?” She asks before taking notice of the room. “Oh, Nick, hiya hon.”

Fury nods respectfully. “Hiya Mrs. Carter.” He holds out the packages he’d intercepted from the delivery man. “These are yours.”

Peggy sighs and shakes her head, but she’s also smiling at the way Angie’s face lights up. “Really darling, we’re meant to be down sizing if you’re serious about moving into a pensioner's shanty.”

“It’s a retirement villa, English, a condo.” Angie huffs at her wife playful while taking the packages from Fury. “Six decades in the good ol’ U. S. of A. and she still uses funny words.” She’s teasing. Angie wouldn’t try the way Peggy spoke for anything. Smiling warmly at their guest she asks, “Coffee, Nicky? I’ve some coconut cake in there as well.” 

“Thanks Mrs. Carter but I won't be here long.” Fury replies. “I left Hill in the car.”

Angie laughs. “You used to hate it when Peg did that to you.” 

Peggy smirks as she takes her seat in her leather wingback. “That’s why he does it to her, and why she’ll do it to her right hand some day.” Once Angie has left the room and Fury is seated at the end of the sofa closest to her, Peggy says, “Now, my boy, tell me what’s happened and what you need from me.” 

“I need your help, Ma’am.” Fury says with annoyance. “One of your stray’s came back with a particularly dangerous stray of his own.” 

“Be more specific, Nicholas.” Peggy ordered gently.

“Barton.” Fury begins. 

Peggy chuckles. “Is he considered one of my strays? I thought Barton was like Coulson and Hill, one of yours.” 

“You took your grandkids to the circus and came back with a boy who uses a bow and arrows and told me to make an agent out of him.” Fury huffed. “He’s on you, Ma’am.” 

“Fair enough.” Peggy replies easily. “What did Agent Barton do that I need to correct him for?” 

Fury makes a point of making sure they're alone and then looks at Peggy and says, “He brought back a Black Widow.”

The girl in the interrogation room is one of the youngest Black Widows Peggy has come across in a very long time. Mid teens, red hair, green eyes, pale skin, thin frame, a dancer’s build, but even sitting Peggy could tell she didn’t quite have a dancer’s height. From what she could see of the girl there was bruising, and some shallow breathing that indicated she’d recently taken a beating that left her with perhaps a broken rib or two. There was also dried blood near her hair line, and bottom lip, and left eyebrow. Turning her head to the left after taking the girl in for a while, Peggy looked at Agent Barton. 

“I know I disobeyed orders.” Clint says when he feels the former Director’s eyes on him. “But I went in thinking I was putting down a high level threat, not an abused kid.” 

“She is both.” Peggy tells him. “The Red Room takes children, girls, between the ages of three and five, and begins training them to be merciless killers and spies, Agent Barton.” 

“I made a judgment call in the field to help a kid in trouble.” Clint defended himself. He wasn’t much older than the girl, five to seven years perhaps, and Peggy wasn’t sure he should have been the one sent on this mission. “When she was given the choice to kill me or turn on her people, she turned on them and helped get the both of us out of Russia. If I had blindly followed orders in this situation, how am I any different than the bastards we’re fighting against?” 

Peggy nods at the young man approvingly. Perhaps he had been the right agent for this particular mission after all. She offers Clint a hint of a smile, a small gesture of pride, he had disobey orders after all. “I hope you know what you’ve taken on Agent Barton, because you’re going to be assigned to our young friend for a while.”

The girl is being restrained by the best tech SHIELD has, and yet Peggy knew that if she really wanted to get free and make a run for it she could. If the girl is surprised when she walks in and takes a seat across from her she doesn’t show it. When Peggy speaks, she speaks in flawless Russian. “Do you know who I am?” 

The girl looks Peggy up and down slowly before saying a word in old Russian from the northern dialect, a nickname Peggy had earned ages ago and bore proudly as a testament to life’s work. It was a word that was both an insult and an honor meaning she was stubborn, a bother some female out of her place, and yet an enemy to be respected. Hearing it again made Peggy’s lip twitch towards a smirk. Then the girl said, “Carter.” 

Peggy nods. “That’s right.” 

“You are old.” The girl says in Russian. 

“I am.” Peggy agrees. “And you are just a child.” 

“I am not a child!” The girl barks at her. “I could kill you where you sit if I wanted too.” 

Peggy nods. “You could try, many have, including several Black Widows, no one has succeeded yet. How do you think I’ve gotten so old?” The girl sits back, seeing the wisdom in this. People in their line of work didn’t often get the chance to grow old, and yet here Peggy sat. “What is your name?” The girl doesn’t respond at first but just as she’s about to, Peggy adds, “Not your code name or any of your countless aliases. What is the name the Red Room gave you when you were a girl?” 

The girl sits there staring at Peggy but Peggy can see the muscles in her neck work as she swallows. After a long moment more the girl finally says, “Romanova, Natalia Romanova.” 

The former Director of SHIELD smiles warmly. “Thank you, Natalia.” She tells the girl, her smile turning into a smirk. “There are now several men standing behind that mirror over there totally gobsmacked because you haven’t said a single word to them in four days, and yet you just told me your name.” 

“You do not look at me the way they look at me.” Natalia tells Peggy, they are still speaking in Russian. 

“How do they look at you?” Peggy asks, intrigued. 

Natalia looks over at the mirror and then back at Peggy. “Some look at me as a threat that needs to be neutralized. Others see me as an asset they hope to use for their own ends.” 

“And how do I look at you?” Peggy’s voice is soft, it has been during this entire exchange. She hasn’t once spoken to this girl as an enemy or an asset, but as a child, as a human being. 

“Like Barton did.” Natalia answers. “Like I am a person.” 

Peggy reaches out and puts her hand on the girl’s. “You are a person, Natalia Romanova.”

When Peggy rejoins Fury, Barton, and Maria Hill she tells them that Natalia has agreed to medical treatment, and then orders Barton stay with her. “I’m going to call in an expert to evaluate her as well.” There was something in the girl’s eyes, something she had seen in Michael’s eyes, that had her concerned. “I want to know what they’ve done to her mentally.” 

“You think she’s brainwashed?” Fury asks. 

“Perhaps.” Peggy nods. “Not to the extent of some other programs we know the Russians ran, the Red Room seemed to like giving their operatives some level of self control, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they implemented some kind of control measures, especially after what happened with Dottie Underwood.” 

“If she’s to be an asset…” Hill begins to say but Peggy cuts her off with a withering look she splits between the young woman and Fury.

“An asset?” Peggy repeats the word with a tint of disbelief. “She is a child, not an asset.” 

“She’s a highly trained assassin and spy.” Fury says, looking a little confused. “She’s the best the Red Room has ever produced. There’s a reason I sent Barton out to terminate her. If we can use her on our side instead, then Barton’s mission wasn’t a total failure.” 

“She is a child.” Peggy repeats sharply. “We do not use children, Nicholas. We do not lower ourselves to using the tactics of our enemies to fight the evil they try to spread in this world. SHIELD is better than that. And if you believe otherwise or have forgotten this, perhaps I made a mistake leaving you in charge.” She glared at him until Fury lowered his head and then she huffed. “Honestly Nicholas, using someone like that, using a child no matter her skill set like that, is something I would expect from Pierce or Ross, not from you.” 

Natalia is kept in a secure room while she’s evaluated. She interacts willingly with Barton and Peggy, and begrudgingly with Fury because she knows he is technically in charge. Though anyone with eyes can see he defers to Peggy when she demands it. Because he was the one who brought her in, Barton is given the task of handling her, but he can’t always be around. When agents came to escort her to Peggy who was meeting with the expert she’d asked to evaluate her, Natalia lashed out when one of the men provoked her. The teenager incompastated eleven agents before Peggy’s voice bellowed down the hall. 

“Natalia!” The command came in Russian. “Stand down this instant!” 

The girl stops, letting the agent she had held in her grasp by the front of her uniform drop to the floor. She turns to look at Peggy, barely out of breath while the men and women around her, if conscious, pant for air. The doctor has told Peggy that while the girl has not been brainwashed to the extent that Michael once had been, he is certain there has been some tampering. There was also, he had told her gravely, a lot of emotional and psychological trauma, which Peggy had already known. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Peggy demands of the girl gently. She uses the same firm tone of voice she used on her children and grandchildren, rather than the harsher, colder, voice she used on agents. 

“I did not leave behind all that I knew, all that I was, all who I…” She stops herself from finishing that thought before continuing, “I did not leave Russia to become a weapon for another.” Natalia’s green eyes burn bright with emotion and glisten with oncoming tears. 

Peggy frowns. “Who told you that’s what was going to become of you?” The girl looks around at the mess of bodies she’s made and points to the agent who had taunted her about being a weapon to be used at their mercy. Peggy scowls at the man. She will have him dealt with later. “SHIELD Is not in the habit of using children as weapons or soldiers, Natalia. That agent has no idea what he’s talking about.” 

“Then I am to be a prisoner.” Natalia’s voice is heavy with emotion. “Barton spared my life only for it to be wasted away in a cell.”

“No, child.” Peggy says softly as she closes the distance between them. She held out her hand tentatively to the young girl who was turned against her will into a weapon. “I am working on a plan to ensure that doesn’t happen.” 

For a long moment Natalia simply stares at the offered hand, weathered and spotted with age, but then after a long moment of uncertainty she reaches out and accepts it. 

“Have you gone senile?” Fury roars from behind his desk. “This is some kind of dementia bullshit, it has to be. Because you’ve lost your fucking mind if you think this is even remotely a good idea.” 

Maria Hill looks as if she’s ready to jump clear of a bomb blast as Peggy walks over to Fury’s desk, plants her hands a top it, and leans into the man’s face. “I am in perfect health and of sound mind, you on the other hand Nicholas Fury have clearly lost yours, and are three seconds from getting a size eight up your arse.” 

Fury leans in, his gaze locked with Peggy’s. “You’re damn near eighty years old, you are not taking a teenage assassin home with you!” 

“She deserves a chance at having a childhood with what remains of it.” Peggy replies firmly. “She deserves a chance at being a human being and not a weapon used by anyone, including us. If she chooses to be a part of SHIELD someday, when she is of age, it will be a choice she makes for herself. Until then, she will be under my supervision and protection.” 

“I won’t allow it.” Fury barks. 

“You have no say in the matter.” Peggy counters. “It’s already been arranged.” 

“Do you honestly think you can make her a normal kid?” Fury falls back into his chair with a defeated huff. 

“With enough patience and the right kind of attention, even the most feral of kittens can be calmed, Nicholas.” Peggy replies. “If Natalia didn’t want at least a chance at having a better life, she wouldn’t be here. Agent Barton and I seem to be the only one’s willing to see that and offer our help in achieving it, and I find that very disappointing.”

Fury pouted. “You’re making me sound like a monster.” 

“Not a monster.” Peggy replied. “Just a royal jackass that I hope isn’t losing his way or his heart in the dark corners of the world.” 

Peggy isn’t foolish. She knows what she is getting herself and Angie into, and she takes precautions. Their new housekeeper ‘June’ is a SHIELD agent, so is ‘Charlie’ the landscaper. Natalia is suspicious and untrusting, she is skittish and always waiting for the double cross. Margaret Carter is well known by the people Natalia used to work for, there has to be more to her taking responsibility for her, there had to be an angle to this that made sense to her. But there wasn’t, it’s just that Natalia didn’t know any different. She had been used for as long as she could remember. She didn’t understand that Peggy wasn’t trying to use her. She was simply trying to help her. 

Though Angie had given the day to day running of her theater group over to a brilliant young director, she was still very much involved in the theater world. Now that they were back in New York she taught a class once a week, and this semester they were working on a production of The Three Sisters by Anton Chekhov. One of the characters is named Natasha and after hearing the name said by Angie as she’s on the phone with one of her students, it begins to haunt Natalia’s dreams. Dreams already full of names and faces that haunted the girl every night. 

Peggy hears the soft whimpers as Natalia thrashes in her bed. It isn’t the first time she’s heard the girl in the midst of a nightmare, but Natalia had normally forced herself awake by the time Peggy reached her. This time when Peggy stepped into the room she had given the girl to call her own, Natalia was still asleep. Peggy knew better than to try and wake the girl from a nightmare while within striking range so she had to do it from afar, and with the hope that Natalia hadn’t hidden a knife under her pillow. “Malen'kiy dikiy kotenok,” Peggy calls out in a firm but gentle voice that should be more than loud enough to awaken a person trained to sleep lightly and aware. In a rare moment when Natalia wasn’t being skittish about Peggy’s motives, she daringly argued with Peggy, and Peggy had called her a feral kitten in Russian. The nickname had stuck. “Nat, malen'kiy dikiy kotenok, wake up darling.” 

Natalia awakens with a start and in a flash is on her feet with a weapon in hand. 

“Are those my good sewing shears?” Peggy scolds, showing no fear, only parental annoyance. Taking a few steps closer to the panting girl Peggy holds out her hand. “Those are for decate threads, young lady, not for stabbing.” 

Peggy’s voice grounds the shaken girl. She blinks a few times as she struggles to catch her breath, and then places the scissors into the older woman’s outstretched hand. “Scissors just for sewing, you are such an old woman, like a babushka from the movies.” 

If Natalia were one of her other children Peggy would have reached out to caress her cheek and brush soothingly at her hair, but she wasn’t. The girl was still wound too tightly to be touched just yet, if Peggy tried Natalia might strike out at her on instinct. So instead she asks, “Do you want to try to go back to sleep right away?” When Natalia shakes her head she smiles reassuringly and says, “Let’s have tea and sit by the fire for a bit, then.” 

Peppermint tea and a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich was made before the pair settled in front of the fireplace. Peggy sat in a chair, while Natalia settled on the floor. Peggy watched the girl watching the flames as she ate her sandwich, and thought about the mutterings she’d overheard. She’d learned not to ask the girl about the name Yelena, that just shut her down completely for days. But that hadn’t been the name she’d heard tonight, so once she was sure her ward was calm she asked, “Who is Natasha?” 

Natalia tensed up a bit but not in the way she did just before she shut down and shut them out. It was just an uncomfortable and confused kind of way. “I don’t know.” She whispers as tears well and begin to fall. “I think,” She pauses, unsure, uncertain, and then looks away from the flame and into Peggy’s warm and comforting gaze. “I think, maybe, once upon a time, she was me.” 

Before the harsh cold voices of the Red Room that called her Natalia, there were warm voices that called out joyfully for Natasha. Voices that were always swallowed up by flames in her dreams. Without thinking the girl moves closer to Peggy, sitting near her feet. That’s where she begins to sit whenever she tells Peggy things that are hard to speak of. When Barton found her she had just escaped being punished for failing her last mission. She had been ordered to track down and kill her best friend, Marina, who had fallen in love with a boy and a cat, but she couldn’t do it. She had watched Marina for days, had seen her enjoying her life, her tiny apartment, her boyfriend, and her cat. Natalia felt something stir in her, and she just couldn’t do it, so when she returned to the Red Room, she had been beaten and punished for her failure and weakness. Barton had gotten her out of Russian, but someone else had gotten her out of the Red Room compound, though she did not share that bit of the story with Peggy. Not even when the guilt over what could have become of him, of Alexei, if his betrayal were discovered, washed over her like waves leaving her unable to breathe. 

Her new passports, one American and one British, listed her as Natasha Romanoff, and she used them to travel to England with Peggy and Angie. They were going to spend a few months at their country home, which is where Natasha had felt true peace for the first time in her life. She roams the woods, swims in the lake, helps Peggy in the garden and Angie in the kitchen, and she is happy. One warm summer evening Natasha gets lost in her thoughts and remains in the woods long after dark. Peggy and Angie are frightened and concerned, worried she has been hurt, or worse until she comes strolling in all happy as she pleased. Once they’re sure she’s safe and unharmed they begin to scold her. Natasha begins to argue, in English at first, but then she shifts to Russian and Peggy shifts just as easily. 

“I am not a child!” Natasha argues as she stands toe to toe with Peggy. “I survived the wilderness of Siberia before I was ten!” 

“Your ability to survive in the woods is not the point here, Natasha!” Peggy scolds. “Angie and I didn’t know if you were safe, or if something had happened to you! You were gone for hours without checking in. You missed dinner, and did not answer when we called.” 

“My phone is dead.” Natasha huffed, but the look in Peggy’s eyes, and in Angie’s when she looked over at the other older woman standing nearby with her arms crossed over her chest, had her deflating quickly. Her annoyance at being treated like a child gave way to surprise and then guilt. She had scared them because they cared about her. It was the first time she released they weren’t just compassionate keepers of a living weapon who just happened to be a minor. These two women cared about her. Perhaps even loved her?

“Natasha?” Peggy’s voice had softened after watching the emotion shift through the girl’s expression. 

Natasha drops her gaze for a moment before looking at Peggy and saying, “Prosti, Babushka.” And then over at Angie. “Mi dispiace, Nonna.” She dropped her gaze again. “I didn't mean to frighten you. I lost track of time and my thoughts.” 

Angie walks over and places two fingers under Natasha’s chin to raise her gaze to meet her own. She is surprised but also filled with joy to hear their new names whispered in cautious but genuine reverence. “Sei perdonato, bambina.” She smiles warmly and brushes at Natasha’s red hair. “I’ll get your dinner, sweetheart, I’ve kept your plate warm.” She taps Natasha’s nose before wagging a finger at her. “But no dessert, little girls who make their Nonna’s sick with worry don’t get chocolate cake.” 

Natasha goes to whine, she loves chocolate cake, but Peggy tuts at her. “Actions have consequences, my girl.” Peggy emphasizes her point with a sharp smack to Natasha’s rear end. “Next time make sure your phone is charged before you leave the garden. Don’t think that just because I’m an old woman I can’t take a naughty child over my knee, Natasha Margaritaovna Romanoff.” 

Later when everyone is tucked away in their beds and the English countryside sings a lullaby through partially opened windows, Angie sighs softly beside her wife. “You were right, English.” 

Peggy raises an intrigued eyebrow as she places her book mark in her book and takes her glasses off before setting both book and glasses on the night table beside her water glass. “I have, on occasion, been known to be.” Peggy replies as she shifts a bit and then invites her wife to rest her head on her chest. “Dare I ask what exactly i was right about this time?” 

Angie settles into Peggy’s embrace with a warm contented sigh. “Natty, and her needing us. Though as it turns out, we needed her too. It feels good to be taking care of a child who needs us again.” 

“It does.” Peggy agrees. Just as Elizabeth and Edwin, their grandchild, Sharon and Tony, were their children, so now was Natasha. Peggy’s heart was full, and she smiled with contented joy. 

When she is of age Natasha makes the choice herself to join SHIELD with Peggy’s blessing. Although she is already highly skilled she still has to be trained in the ways of SHIELD, lessons she gets from Fury and Peggy. Not everyone is thrilled to have her around, some still seeing her as nothing more than Russia's Black Widow, but she isn’t bothered by that because she has the support from the only people who truly matter. She has Peggy and Angie, Fury, Barton, Sharon, and she even manages to grow on Maria Hill. Natasha Romanoff becomes one of SHIELD’s best, and then she becomes an Avenger, a hero, her family grows, and she knows she owes it all to Barton who rescued her and Peggy who saved her.


	18. Epilogue

The summer sun was warm on his skin as Steve made his way along the path around the pond and up the slight incline of the small hill. He’d just spent way too long in the cold being pelted by sleet, and the warmth on his skin felt good. Summer flowers bloomed all around him, filling the air with calming scents while the water fowl on the pond filled his ears with their calls, these were much welcome sensations after having his senses assaulted by the sights and sounds and smells of battle. He carried a beautiful bouquet of flowers and he hummed softly to himself as he walked. It was peaceful here, and after the last couple of days he needed peacefulness back in his life. 

Some of that peacefulness gave way to a familiar sense of sorrow as he saw his destination come into view. A large but graceful, beautiful black granite double headstone was placed near a large shade tree with a matching granite bench beneath it. As Steve made his way to it he passed other headstones, all engraved with a familiar last name, but his only focus was on the one that read Martinelli-Carter across the top. Beneath the large capital letters of their surname were the names, Margaret Elizabeth “Peggy” and Angala Sofia “Angie”, with their nicknames below their full names. Their separate birthdays which had been months and years apart, were next. Their date of death however, was the same. 

“Hi Peggy. Hi Angie.” Steve says softly as he places the flowers just below the picture of the two encased in the granite. There are two granite flower vases built into the base of the headstone, but they are already full of fresh flowers. Evidence that others had already been there. A stunning arrangement of orchids that could only be from Tony, Pepper, and Morgan, given the expense of them, had been placed on Peggy’s side. Gladiolas, which represented strength of character and hydrangeas which represented perseverance, left by Sharon were on Angie’s. He knew they were left by Sharon, because she was the one who told them what flowers meant. His own bouquet for example was a mix of pink and white carnations which meant gratitude and remembrance, and larkspur for their beautiful spirits. The stones and poppies along the base and top of the headstone were left by Edwin and Elizabeth, and their children and grandchildren. The stones showed the lingering influence Ana Jarvis had had on Peggy’s children, and the poppy flowers, her children's Britishness. The roses and violets taken from Peggy’s own garden, he knows are from Natasha. “I know I’m a few days late, but happy anniversary.” 

The year that same sex marriage became legal in the United Kingdom Peggy and Angie married on the anniversy of the day they’d first said their vows to one another on a beach in Cape Cod. Peggy was ninety-three, and Angie eighty-eight. A year later they did the same thing when it became legal in the United States. Steve had watched a lifetime of love and devotion radiate from the two of them as brightly as the sun now shone in the clear blue skies above him, on that first day in Peggy’s english garden as they stood before a vicar and said their vows once more, only this time having them recognized by law. They had waited for over sixty years for those moments of recognition, and to have been able to share it with the people they loved, the amazing family they had made together, had given them both such joy. Steve had felt blessed to be among those asked to bare witness. 

One of their great granddaughter’s was an aspiring documentary filmmaker at the time, was a documentary filmmaker now, and had recorded both ceremonies. After the one that took place in a small church in New York she'd asked Peggy what Angie meant to her. “What does Angie mean to me?” Peggy had repeated with amusement. “My darling, Carter, she means everything to me.” 

Peggy had lived long enough to see her 105th birthday. When asked about her long life Peggy would joke that, “Angie would be rather cross if I got to be 100 and she didn’t.” Angie used to laugh and say, “The Grim Reaper is too scared of Peggy Carter to come for her until she’s damn well ready.” Steve had a feeling there was truth in the ‘not going until she was damn well ready’ part of that statement. Peggy wasn’t going to leave this earth until she was certain everyone she loved had found their place and was loved as she had been. Then and only then would she allow herself to rest. Peggy and Angie went peacefully in their sleep within hours of each other, which surprised no one. There was no, until death do us part, in their vows of love to one another, but instead the words engraved at the very bottom of the stone. “I loved you then, I love you now, and I will love you always.” 

“The violets are in bloom, Peg.” Steve says as he gently brushes his fingertips over the petals. While all the other flowers are in bouquets the violets are planted along the base of the headstone. “They’re beautiful this year.” He smiles, and then moves to sit on the bench nearby. “I would have been here with the others but Sam and Bucky can’t seem to keep themselves out of trouble, and retirement or not, Director Carter seems to think I’m the only one who can get them out of it.” 

With Fury secretly building SWORD in space, Sharon had taken it upon herself to rebuild SHIELD, with the help of Phli Coulson who wasn’t as dead as the Avengers thought he was, his secret ops team, and other agents Sharon knew still held true to the ideals carved out in stone by Peggy. So it was only natural that once SHIELD was back up and running properly, Sharon Carter be it’s new Director. “Bucky would have come with me but the White Wolf was needed back in Wakanda inmedically, which is why I think Sharon sent me after those two knuckleheads.” 

It felt strange that life was going on without Peggy and Angie in it. They had left such big impressions on everyone’s lives. “I miss you, Peg, we all miss you, both of you.” Steve sighs, and turns his face up towards the sun for a moment before he continues to address the headstone. “But things are good, really good, despite the mess of things we nearly made with Thanos.” Steve shudders. “If Carol hadn’t shown up when she did, god Peg, I hate to think of what would have happened if that purple bastard had actually gotten to snap his fingers.” Steve let the memories of that horrible war wash over him for a moment and then let them go with a deep breath, focusing instead on a happier memory that made him smile. 

“Steven Rogers what in blue blazes is on your face?” Peggy had demanded when Steve had walked into her living room, making her live in nurse giggle. 

Steve had blinked. He had been expecting relief and joy in knowing he and Natasha were safe and sound once Peggy laid eyes on them. He was still shaken from the battle and couldn’t quite manage a full sentence. “Um, a beard?”

Peggy had beckon him to her and reached out to run her fingers through his beard, and then she frowned. “I don’t like it.” 

“I don’t know, Baba, it kind of grows on you.” Natasha had said. 

“Malen'kiy dikiy kotenok, your hair!” Peggy had shouted, her dark eyes wide as they took Natasha in. 

“What about it?” Natasha had replied with a smirk. 

“It’s blonde!” Peggy had crinkled her nose. “I don’t like it either.” 

Needless to say Steve shaved off his beard and Natasha went back to her natural red hair. The memory of them teasing each other over it made Steve laugh, and remember the good things that had come out of the war with Thanos. Carol Danvers for one, not only did she save their asses that day, but she was the reason Sharon was so happy these days. They all seemed to have had moments of clarity after coming too close to the end of it all. Tony and Pepper married and had a daughter. Bruce finally made peace with the Hulk and now they were one and the same. Thor struggled, his mistake on the battlefield had nearly cost them everything, and for a while he felt himself unworthy. He was better now, happy, worthy again, sharing is life and power with Jane. Clint was back on his farm with Laura and the kids. Wanda, thanks to Natasha, was strong and whole, and on track as Dr. Stranger’s heir to take on the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme some day. 

As for Steve, while he might have had a moment of clarity on the battlefield as well, it wouldn’t have happened at all if not for his time spent listening to Peggy’s stories, and her unwavering encouragement to live his life, to find joy and happiness, and to find a love as meaningful and fulfilling as her own. After leaving the cemetery Steve hops on his bike and makes his way home. Visiting Peggy and Angie, though tinted with a bit of sorrow, always brought him peace, and left him with a warm, content feeling in his chest. 

“I’m home.” Steve calls out as soon as he closes the door behind him. He smiles at the sound of bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors and turns just in time to see who's running towards him. She is all of six years old, with strawberry blonde hair, soft but bright green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across the top of her cheeks. “There’s my best girl.” 

“Hi Daddy!” She replies.

Steve scoops her up into his arms and hugs her tight. “Hi Peggy.” He kisses her cheek and smiles when she giggles. “I brought you something.” He tells her as he carries her into the living room. Her eyes light up and it fills him with joy. He pulls out a package of sweets from his pocket and hands them to her. 

Peggy gasps and smiles, “Those are my favorite, Daddy.” 

“I know they are.” Steve replies. 

“Do I have to share them with James?” Peggy asks, a slight pout forming on her lips.

Steve chuckles and kisses her cheek again. “That would be the nice thing to do, don’t you think?” 

Peggy sighs dramatically. “Yes, I guess so. He can have one.” She’s dramatic for another thirty seconds before she’s beaming at him again. “Daddy, dance with me! Please?” 

But before Steve can answer someone else is speaking to him. “You’re late.” 

Steve looks over and smiles. Love, meaningful and joyful, he thinks as he looks at her. She has a small boy on her hip. He is nearly three years old, with blonde hair and green eyes, and chubby cheeks. James Clinton Rogers smiles at his father sleepily from his mother’s shoulder, his stuffed corgi held tightly to his chest, and Steve smiles back as he replies. “Story of my life.” 

Natasha laughs. She kisses her husband hello and tries to look sternly at their daughter. “Margaret Angelica Rogers, you’re supposed to be brushing your teeth and picking out your pajamas. It’s almost bedtime, kotenok.” 

“I wanna dance with Daddy first, Mama.” Peggy replies. “Pozhaluysta, Mama?” 

“Come on, Nat.” Steve gives her his best most charming smile. “One dance.” 

“Fine.” Natasha gives in. 

Steve pulls her close and they hold their children between them as they dance in the parlor of the English country house Peggy and Angie had left to Natasha in their will. It had always been where Natasha had found the most peace, in this little country cottage with her chosen grandmothers who had shown her true unconditional love for the first time since she had been James’ age. After the battle in Wakanda with Thanos the assassin spy and super soldier realized that their friendship had grown into something more, and with Peggy and Angie’s encouragement and support, Natasha allowed herself to explore what that more could be. It turned out to be something better than Natasha had ever dreamed it could be. She and Steve were retired, except when they were the only ones who could do what needed to be done, and had made a home for themselves and their family in England. A simple but meaningful and joyous life full of love, just as Peggy had wanted for them both. 

Natasha stood in the doorway of her daughter’s room and watched the man she loved tucking their little girl into bed and smiled. 

“Tell me a story, Daddy.” Peggy yawns as she snuggles down. “Please?” 

Steve smiles and brushes hair from her face as he replies. “A long time ago in a place called New York City a clever and brave young woman walked into an automat and sat in a booth. She was tired and frustrated because the fatheads she worked with didn’t show her any respect. But then a bright young sweetheart of a girl from Brooklyn walked up to her table and asked her what she would like to eat. And when that clever and brave young woman looked up into the bright eyes of that sweetheart from Brooklyn, all of a sudden all the gloom in her life was gone, and it felt like the sun had come out. Winter was over, spring had come, and soon she would discover that the violets would soon be in bloom.” 

** THE END **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who read this little retelling of Peggy's life with Angie, and what might have become of it. A huge thank you to everyone who commented. I looked forward to seeing how each of you liked the chapters and the life I plotted out for our ladies. 
> 
> ~Reese


End file.
